#but here he wrote the book himself so what did y'all expect

[mexashepot]

An openly fascist, sexist composer who prides himself in supporting his country's authoritarian bordering totalitarian regime and the genocidal war it's been waging for almost 2 years now: *writes a musical the main conclusions of which are 'authoritarian regimes are great, actually and everyone who's trying to oppose them 100% deserves their bitter endings' and 'women are petty bitches who will always compete for the attention of men'

The fandom for reasons beyond my understanding:

[earthtooz]

earth... i saw that anon abt rin x afterglow but hear me out... reo x sweet nothings........... WE'RE SO NORMAL ABT HIM

x : SWEET NOTHING :*+ﾟ i find myself running home to your sweet nothings.

in which: reo doesn't think he has many loveable traits. you show him otherwise.

warnings: domesticity fluff, 2k words, gn!reader, mentions of insecurity and food, pet names for the reader, there's a little angst but this is comfort, semi-unedited, semi-coherent writing sorry y'all it gets worse LMFAOOOOOOOO yolo.

a/n: this is 2k words of me purely loving reo. reo if you're reading this... hmu baby... WE ARE SO NORMAL ABOUT HIM. HERE. 2K WORDS THAT I WROTE ON A TOTAL WHIM THAT I DROPPED ALL MY DRAFTS AS SOON AS I SAW A REO ASK. this is the fastest ask i've ever whipped out. thanks for requesting :>

reo doesn’t think he has many lovable traits.

sure he’s popular, well-liked, whatever, and as much as he’s aware of how large his social circle is, reo can’t help but wonder if all of it is… just for show. that if the people around him know nothing of genuinity and dance towards him in exquisite gowns made of money, refined manners, and masks carved in ‘円’ symbols with expectations of expensive favours and luxury. 

it sickens reo a little when he thinks about it. on his worse days, he thinks that it’s all he’s worth: money upon money upon money.

is there anything else he has to offer? 

he returns home squeezed dry, mind racing with questions and he finds himself sinking under. everyone is up to something, everyone wants everything from him. he wonders when he’ll be able to take some of it back. 

the smell of steak cuts through his thoughts, filling his nose immediately as the athlete steps foot into his apartment. reo hadn’t registered how hungry he was until now, not having had anything to eat since lunch since he thought he’d have dinner but he left before it could even be served. got too fed up of the company to stick around.

since when did he become so… picky about his company?

walking into his property, he’s greeted with the sight of you dashing around his kitchen, plating multiple things at once whilst a pan sizzled atop the stovetop. it was his favourite; ichibo steak. reo’s stomach rumbles just thinking about it.

(he has an answer to his question: since you came into his life, showing him what it was like to be loved with the same fervour that he loves the rest of the world.)

“oh my-” you abruptly say, frozen when you notice the figure in the hallway, relaxing when you register that it was just your boyfriend who hadn’t the effort to make himself known. “reo, welcome home.”

he walks over to you with a small smile ghosting his lips. “hi love,” he greets, the two of you meeting halfway in a comforting embrace, one that reo melts right into. you press your face into the cold fabric of his suit, chilled by the cold weather outside. the smell of his cologne lingers. “what a pleasant surprise.”

you part, both wearing a lovestruck grin. “i hope it’s okay, you just texted me that you hadn’t had dinner and i thought it’d be nice if we eat together. sorry for dropping in without notice.”

he doesn’t know why you’re apologising. if he came home to this sight everyday he’d be over the moon.

hand cradling your cheek, he presses his nose against yours. “‘s more than okay,” he mutters before closing the gap in a gentle yet breathtaking kiss. his heart stutters back alive, pumping wildly when he feels you, so warmly, so comfortingly, so real, smile against him. 

“how was your high school reunion?” you ask, parting first. reo scrunches his face in distaste. partly at your question, mostly because he thought you pulled away too soon. 

he doesn’t want to think too hard about the bar he was at not too long ago, booked out specifically for said reunion to happen. doesn’t want to hink about the people crowding around him, asking about his career as an athlete and as the ceo of such a successful company. their praise leaves a sour mark in his heart. after two hours of the same questions, he had enough.

“left two hours in. should tell ya enough.”

“aww, sorry to hear that. hope you’ll feel better over dinner.”

“babe, i already feel amazing now that you’re here.”

you giggle at his shameless flattery before patting his shoulder, a subtle way of telling him to ‘knock it off’. “go get changed and relax. i need to cook the steak before it gets past how you like it.”

how he likes it.

reo is reluctant to go, making that known as he frowns whilst his hand squeezes your waist. you push him away with a gentle shove. “go.”

“okay,” he sighs.

after five or so minutes, reo emerges, dressed down into some comfortable pajamas. dinner is prepared now and you’d taken the time to prepare some juice as well- probably the one his dietician recommended for his athlete diet. he doesn’t like drinking it, you know that, and the only time he does is when you force him to (you promise to give him kisses in exchange and the drink is down in three seconds).

he stares at it in disdain. you, knowing him too well, reads his mind and began laughing, recalling all the inside jokes you have around this pesky little beverage. “c’mon, let’s eat,” you prompt and reo doesn’t even have to think twice before complying.

dinner is simple. it’s a really random assortment of dishes, you both have a bowl of udon, a plate of veggies to share, and there’s miso soup on the side. he appreciates the effort you put into getting all the nutrients he needs despite how demanding it can be. 

“thank you for the food.” 

reo digs in without hesitation, humming at the first taste of a warm meal after such a cold and unforgiving night. it warms him from the inside and suddenly, all misfortunes he’d experienced tonight become nothing but forgotten memories that’ll eventually be left to rot in the crevices of his mind, outshone by the sight of your smile and affectionate gaze.

“is it good?” you ask.

it’s amazing. incredible. the best food he’s ever had because of who it was made by. he doesn’t get to express that though so he just nods viciously, glancing over at your laughing form as he slurps his udon very ungraciously.

you don’t judge. you never judge.

“i’m glad, but please slow down.”

“sorry, i’m just really hungry,” reo confesses.

“i can see. you murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. he keens at your touch, putting down his bowl to drag your chair closer, his thigh now pressed against yours. you chuckle a little at his actions, flustered by the small action.

this is love, reo thinks. you’re laughing together under the bright lights of his kitchen and this is the epitome of love.

he’s home. he’s welcomed. he’s safe. he’s him. he’s loved.

dinner goes by uneventfully, save for when you needed to feed the purple-haired the juice in order for him to drink it, causing you to mock his face of disgust and reo kissing you to shut you up. after a while of talking over empty plates of food, your legs have somehow ended up in his lap whilst he mindlessly draws on your thigh. a heart, his name with yours, and quick scribbles of ‘i love you’ over and over again. 

tonight was disruptful. his soul feels deconstructed, but with each passing second in your presence, he feels okay again. you strip him of his tiresome prestige and welcome him into the realm of normality, somewhere he has craved to be all his life. 

you kiss his scars and leave promises on them, loving all the beautiful and ugly parts of him, parts that he had never let anyone see before you.

the yawn that escapes you ends the conversation abruptly and you hum contemplatively, lulling your head back a little to emphasise your sudden wave of fatigue. 

“i should get going now, let’s wash u-”

“going where?” your boyfriend questions, grabbing your hand for the comfort of holding it and as a way of telling you that he doesn’t want you to leave.

“home?”

he tugs on your wrist. “don’t go. you’re not busy tomorrow, are you?”

“i’m not.”

“perfect. you should the night.” you should stay forever, he wants to say. one day he will; reo’ll muster the courage to ask you to move in.

in faux hesitation, you hum, raising a hand to his cheek as reo leans in to your touch. “you’ll miss me otherwise, huh? fine. i will.”

the smile he beams rivals that of a thousand suns. you wonder how you managed to be with someone as loving and adoring as reo who is willing to love you and all of your flaws. even after such a long time together, that look of awe never faded whenever he looked at you.

“i need to take a shower. care to join?” reo asks, smirking at you whilst standing up to his full height. despite the lilt in his tone, it’s devoid of any lust or ulterior motive, extending the invite to you for another chance to be close and intimate like lovers are- something he seemingly can’t get enough of.

you roll your eyes, playing off his suaveness. “you’re awful.”

“only for you.”

“i’m okay,” you reject his offer, trying not to give in to your temptations. 

reo is insatiable though. “c’mon, are you sure? would be such a lovely way to end the day though, can’t you grant me that?”

as selfless as reo may be, he loves taking in return. as a business man, it’d only make sense that he’d make use of return investments. “you’ll live.”

“please?”

“fine.”

the shower doesn’t take long. you two do your night routines beside each other, reo drying your hair for you whilst gently combing through it, brushing your teeth together, and finishing with skincare. he’s close to you the whole time, bumping his hip with yours gently as he litters kisses all over your face, causing you to swat him away sometimes with a bright laugh. 

it’s with a six-foot athlete clinging to your waist that you climb into bed, diving under the covers with little hesitation. reo takes the initiative of shifting himself to lie half-atop you, pressing into you with a relieved sigh as he feels your hands run up and down his back. 

he feels okay again, now healed and rejuvenated once more.

reo’s too soft. he lets people in when he really shouldn’t, gets to know people too quickly, too superficially, that he never sees to far into their person before moving on. he has left trials of faces in his mind with no true attachment to any of them, none that he would make the effort to hangout with. he has been an empty void his whole life, moulding himself into versions that other people want to see.

addendum. he had been an empty void his whole life. 

but now that you’re here, he has a constant to dive in. you scold him for changing too much of himself to become your perfect lover. he didn’t need to swap the roses he orders every week to freshen up his dining room to be that of your favourite colour, he didn’t need to swap the candles, shampoos, conditioners- anything else of the sort, to match your favourite scent. he didn’t need to always wear his hair up because you said you liked it that way.

no, because you love reo for reo, regardless of the ‘influences’ you had on him. you love him because he’s a great conversationalist, he’s organised, driven to a healthy degree, selfless, will always hype you up especially when insecurities become unforgiving, pulling you from the depths of your mind the same way you do with him. 

all you’ve ever wanted from him was sweet nothing. 

reo’ll run to you every time, no matter what. if it’s been a shitty day and he just needs to hide from the world or the best day of his life, he’ll always come to you to make it a little better.

the theory still proves true now as he nestles himself into your embrace, breathing you in with each inhale- letting his senses memorise all of you that he can, that you’ll allow.

“i love you,” is the last thing he murmurs before letting consciousness slip away, surrounded with nothing but bliss and love to pull him away. he’ll dream of you. he’s sure of it.

you and your sweet nothings that highlight every loveable trait of his.

(you'll kiss the 'bad' ones with the same amount of love too.)

[lostgracestories]

Idk you, but I rlly like the idea that Morgott use a human disguise when in public (maybe mimic veil or smth else)

So imagine veiled!Morgott being teased by his tarnished consort and trying to make him purr or flustered because he would be an absolute cutie patootie <3

Also the big tired grandpa vibes-

HOLD. MY. COFFEE. I LOVE YOU I COULD KISS YOU (veiled!Morgott writings are a FAV of mine <33333333) I need to show y'all the sketches I have of veiled!Morgott soon now, lol!

Anyways! I wrote a little minific? Drabble? Idk the terms lol I wrote something and here it is <3

erm, apologies for mistakes I'm like half awake rn lmao wc: 631 tw: self-loathing Morgott (typical but very mild)

Veil or no Veil...

It had been some months since you had sealed your consortship with Morgott. There had been a small and brief wedding. This had been due to your, now husband's, fear of betrothing you in his hideous form. You'd had to beg him just for the small wedding not to use mimic veil. Now, here you both were. Morgott had promised you a grand afternoon in the markets, he had even told you that you had no spending limit. It was a rare planned date from your husband and it caused you to bubble with excitement. Well... this was until you saw the man that offered his hand to you with a slow and regal bow...

He was using mimic veil...

"Beloved- do you truly need to hide your features for a simple outing this afterno-" Morgott cut you off, standing tall and it was clear he was not going to allow protest this time. Perhaps... if it made him more comfortable... you were alright with it.

"I will hear no words of protest fall from thy lips. Come, let us enjoy this day fore we must return" You offered a careful look but took your husband's hand in yours, sighing as your shoulders, and his, relaxed. You hadn't noticed you'd been so tense. Without another moment to think, Morgott led you onward, guiding you toward the market.

You watched as his silvery curls, tied into a messy bun, bobbed and lightly blew around with his movements. He was still tall like this but not nearly as tall as you knew him to truly be. He had muscle in this form as well but it could not compare to the large fur and hair strewn biceps that you so dearly loved... if only he saw himself the way that you did.

As hours passed by and you ventured the market with your husband, you found that you quite missed the subtle swish of his tail behind him when you spoke to him. Now, as you stood in your shared favorite bookstore, you watched as Morgott became engrossed in the wide variety of poetry adorning the back shelves. A sly grin pulled at your lips as a devious thought came to mind and you slowly and quietly approached while his hands held the spine of a particular book, his eyes locked on a page...

The purr you drew from him was jarring and loud. He had not expected your gentle fingers to come trailing up his back as you looked over his arm to see what he read. For a moment he was locked in place, utterly embarrassed at the sound you had drawn out of him, in his veiled guise no less...

"Love of mine-" He hadn't meant to but his voice came out low and raspy and above all else... flustered...

"You make such pretty noises, love... if only you would pair your gorgeous face with them..." You hummed thoughtfully as you twirled a strand of his hair between your finger tips.

Morgott's breath caught in his throat at her bold proclamation, in public no less. He wasn't sure if he should feel mortified or scoop her up and rush home with her. His one eye blinked at her simply in shock as she smiled to him innocently, her hand coming up to brush over the bandage always wrapped over his unseeing eye in this form.

"Thou art truly seeking to kill me... I can not stand such claims..." You felt a sly grin pull at your lips once more as you placed a hand over his veiled form's chest. You lingered for a moment before finally speaking once more. It was off topic, but you could hardly keep the words from escaping. "I would love you, veil or no veil..."

[andromedaexists]

WUPDATE: χεῖμα

Saturday, Jan 20th || Return From Death

Heyyo, long time no talk. I mentioned very briefly at the beginning of the year that I was going through some shit but I think I'm starting my slow return to the living!

tl;dr, I had a major health crisis that has still left me unable to breathe correctly 20 days later. Day one of 2024 was spent in the ER and I hope that isn't setting a tone for the rest of the year

But that's besides the point! I want to return to writing! That's my passion! and even though I've been in the throes of imposter syndrome I know that I *can* return! So I'm gonna!! Starting next week y'all are gonna get Incorrect Eyes content, including an official intro post for the religious horror novella!

Before we get that far, though, I wanna tell y'all about a holiday project I didn't announce on tumblr: χεῖμα

χεῖμα is a cozy winter get-away to a cabin in the middle of the woods with the main cast of the Call Me Icarus series. Needless to say, it's not something I normally write. But I really needed something soft and happy, so that's what a wrote!

SUMMARY

In a different life, a different world, Icarus is invited for a winter holiday to Achilles' family cabin.

What ensues is a cozy tale of mischief and shenanigans as Icarus and company get snowed in and learn to love despite the annoyances and grievances that surround them.

Χεῖμα is a non-canonical short story set in what would ostensibly be our modern world with the main cast of Δάιος. This short story does not require you to read Δάιος, but it does assume familiarity with the characters.

And with that introduction, I wanted to let y'all know that this is a FREE story available on my itchio!!! And you can add it on GoodReads!!

Another important thing to note with this work is that there are two variations: the bell pepper edition and the chili pepper edition. They are same story with the exact same story line, but the chili pepper includes a sex scene and the bell pepper does not! So if you just want a cozy, pg-13 story, you can go with the bell pepper edition and if you want to read a scene where Icarus gets eaten out as an act of worship, then you can check out the chili pepper edition!

I also wanna share some snippies as well as the art I drew for the story, so if you wanna see those check out below the cut ↓

Okay, so imma share the art first:

(yes it's formatted like a book cover. no i am not selling physical copies of this book)

And one more piece of art:

And without further ado, some snippets I really love!

This time, when Icarus looks into the living room, he’s met with an even more heavenly sight than the fireplace: his family. Patroclus and Andromeda are sitting on the couch talking animatedly to each other while Thanatos is curled up in a chair to their left typing on his laptop. Achilles is flitting around a large tree in the back corner, twirling strands of orange slices and cinnamon on it. A warm and fuzzy feeling comes over Icarus as his gaze sweeps over everyone doing their own thing. This is his family, his home. He makes his way to join them, plopping down in the other unoccupied chair across from Thanatos. It’s only as he sits down that Andromeda looks over at him, smiling. “You came!” “Of course I did,” Icarus responds as he makes himself comfortable. “You had me kidnapped!” “I didn’t kidnap you,” Apollon says, spooking Icarus. He’s a lot closer than Icarus expected, leaning his hip against the side of the oversized chair Icarus is curled up in. “I showed up at your place and asked if you were ready to go. You willing got into my car. That’s not kidnapping.” “I think it counts,” Icarus grumbles, sinking further down into the chair.

And another snippet:

Icarus wakes up the next morning bundled in blankets with a hand running through his hair. He groans, but does not move. This is heaven, right here curled up in an isolated cabin with his ex-best friend playing with his hair. “Good morning, Birdie. Sleep well?” All Icarus can do in response is shush him. He’s not ready to be awake, not ready to face whatever it is that’s going on between the two of them. Apollon laughs and his hand stills. “I didn’t want to wake you up, but Andromeda stopped by a bit ago and said they made lunch. Whenever you wanna get up, we can eat.” But Icarus doesn’t want to get up. Ever. This is his own personal paradise, he would rather eat glass.

One more?

“What happened, is everyone alright?” Apollon asks, his voice panicked as he slides into the view. Icarus can see the moment he realizes that everything is fine, the worry melts off his face and the tension in his shoulders drops. Icarus smiles up at him, dropping his hand as he says, “Yeah, I just came to wake Meda up.” “You fucking dick! You gave me a fucking heart attack!” they respond, throwing their pillow at the side of Icarus’ head. He catches it, the action reigniting his laughter at the situation. Maybe they were right. Maybe the one thing Icarus needed to do was just exist for once, let loose and breathe outside of the rebellion. As the day crawls by in cozy comfort, Icarus realizes that this is what he’s always wanted. A home.

Ah fuck it, one more to explain the pancake sticker:

As Icarus turns into the kitchen he finds his distraction: Achilles standing at the stove. The kid looks thoroughly distraught as smoke and a pungent burning smell rises from the pan in front of him. Without thinking, Icarus swoops in and grabs the pan before rushing to the front door and dumping the whole thing in the snow. “I see you tried to make breakfast,” he says, turning back towards the kitchen. Now that he’s not worries about the burning food, he can see that the kid got out all the ingredients to make pancakes. And man, do pancakes sound delightful. “Yeah, I uh,” Achilles says, his voice thick with emotion. “I wanted to make breakfast for everyone like you did yesterday.” “That sounds great, looks like you got all the stuff for pancakes. Why don’t we make another batch?”

Honestly I debated tagging anyone since this is not normal CMI content, but I have a feeling y'all will love it anyways so:

@flowerprose @isherwoodj @cream-and-tea @touchingmadness @lockejhaven @marinesocks @wildswrites @the-finch-address @leighvalentine @inkspellangel @outpost51 @hclyeden

Please fill out this form to be added or ask to be removed!

[notgalaxii]

May I pls ask for a headcanon of when the brothers or undateables are sick and MC looks after them pls

I wroteee guys! Be proud of me! Oh and I'm also super kinda sorta upset because my new manager wants me in at like 5:30am - 1:30pm?? And that's tiring. Oh welllll, thats how it beeee.

Another thing! I kind of wrote a self-indulgent Satan smut but I didn't know if I wanted to post self-indulgent NSFW cause I feel like a HOOEEE so if you're reading this, you should leave a reply letting me know what you think~

Pride

Bold of you to assume Lucifer will willingly stay put in bed to be taken care of

He puts up one of the biggest fights

"MC, I have paperwork to do."

"MC, Lord Diavolo requested me for a meeting."

"Calm your shit, Luci. You know Diavolo would give you the devildoms entire supply of tissues and medicine if he knew you were sick."

After he gets over his fit of needing to do anything and everything, he's quite easy to take care of

Will tell you exactly what he wants, needs, how much it is, and how to get it

Lucifer would probably be more of a medicine person than soup or tea

Definitely gets very fever high and it'll slowly chip at his wall

"Thank you for bringing me my meals, MC. It means so much to me that you'd go out of your way to take care of me. I appreciate you every second of every day."

Sick Lucifer likes it when you run your fingers through his hair, it'll lull him to sleep

Definitely wouldn't mind if you crawled next to him in bed and fell asleep to him, but I feel like if you do it a few times, fever high Luci will get pretty clingy.

"Why didn't you stay with me longer last night, MC? You left me cold."

Greed

You thought Mammon was already clingy?

Sick Mammon is the textbook definition of clingy

And it's even worse because he feels too fucking miserable to put up a fight with his tsundere self so all of his neediness is right there in the open

"MCCCCC Where ya goin!?!? I wasn't done with you yet! The Great Mammon wants to be fed soup."

Whiny. Very whiny. Oh my god so whiny.

"Why do I feel like my head is floatin' away from my body, huh? It's all foggy up here! Make it stooop"

And if you take a few seconds too long to say something,

"Oi! Are ya listenin' to me!? Pay attention, human!"

But will definitely make it up because sick Mammon is ✨lovey✨ Mammon

"I love you, human. Don't forget that, 'kay? I wouldn't let any other dumb little human take care of me like this. I feel like I can trust you."

Sicky Mammon loves soup. He wants the soup to be fed to him every time too.

Will aggressively feed it to himself if you deny him

"Dummy human, don't know what ya missin' out on, yanno!"

Absolutely melts under a n y touch that you give him

Likes it when you rub his chest a lot, it's very soothing

And as per usual, absolutely loves his hair being played with

An ideal night for sick Mammon would be cuddled up to his human with their hand in hair, watching movies and having soup fed to him until he falls asleep

He's a baby, protect him. Please.

Envy

Leviathan is very confused about why you're trying so hard to take care of him

He's holed up in his room all day anyway, what's the difference when he's sick? He can take care of himself!

But oh god when you bring him food and pets, he can't deny how loved it makes him feel

Anime Marathons! Anime Marathons!

Adores being all wrapped up in the blankets with you watching his favorite shows to make him feel better.

Brush his hair out of his face to check his fever. Do it. It'll break him.

Kiss him on the forehead afterwards if you really r e a l l y want to break him

Levi wouldn't care too much what you bring him, but he would like it to be hot to sooth his throat

He can't yell at his game with a sore throat.

Rub his chest and shoulders, it makes him feel like a big boy

Play with his hair that's usually in his face

Wrath

Angy boy is angy

Doesn't get why you're trying to take care of him, he's a big boy

At first he's a little annoyed by the gestures. Satan likes to do things for himself, he wants to feel capable.

If you're romantically involved with him though, he'll be nicer about it

"I don't know why you're bringing me my meals, kitten. I can still walk. Its just a small cold" proceeds to fall into a sneezing fit

When he's in his demon form, his tail sticks straight up when he sneezes-

Y'all gonna make me write an entire headcanon about how they sneeze I fucking swear.

Back on topic, Satan would like to have a book read to him while he's sick. Sometimes his vision gets a lil foggy and his head gets cloudy

Let him lay his head on your lap by the fire place. Run your hands through his hair and read him a novel.

After his initial fit of "fuck you i'm a big boy," he was by far the easiest to take care of

Any time you tell him to take a medicine, eat something, drink something, blow his nose, or get some rest he listens

Well now that he knows you have best intent in mind

And deep deep deep down in his aggressive heart, he kind of enjoys being bossed around by you

Lust

Asmodeus would be almost Mammon levels of whiny

"MC, am I still beautiful even though my nose is runny?"

"MC, I feel too heavy to walk to the bathroom and do my skincare. Can you do it?"

"MMMCCCCC~ come give me cuddles"

"MC! Feed me my medicine~"

On that note, Asmo doesn't care what you bring him as long as you feed it to him

He'll make it sensual as hell too

Will still try to kiss you all the time if you're okay with it

And you bet he'd be like, "You know what would make me feel better?" And definitely try to get in your pants.

Touch him literally anywhere. He won't care if its his face, dick, or left pinky toe. Just give him your love

Cuddle sessions will be a lot more loving.

Don't get me wrong, Asmo cuddle sessions are already very loving and sensual, but when he's siiiick

He's so so so SO soft

Professes his love for you at least once a day

Wants gentle kisses on his forehead, cheeks, and nose

Honestly, Asmo overall just wants to be held, loved, and taken good care of

You wouldn't be allowed to sleep in your room anymore. He wants your attention and care at all times.

Gluttony

How did you even get sick!?

You're h u g e man, and an athlete, you think you'd have more of a tolerance?????

Okay so on the slim chance that Beelzebub is sick

He is sO GOOD about letting you take care of him

You want him to take this medicine when the alarm rings? He'll down it before dismissing it!

You want him to drink this tea you gave him? It's delicious, MC~

Eat the soup? S a y l e s s

No Beel- you have to drink it slowly or else it won't help as much

Okay so he'll struggle a little bit on that part but he will do his best because he loves you and wants to make you proud.

Beelzebub would like it if during your sick cuddles, you laid on top of him while he had his arms around you

You take so much care of him, he wants to feel like he's caring for you too

Fever High Beel is chatty, honestly when you know Beel personally hes chatty anyways but he's worse under a sick spell

Will ask you literally every philosophical question that settles in his brain for at least a second

Some of them are straight up weird though man

"Why is there a D in fridge but not refrigerator?" Is one he has asked m u l t i p l e times.

Beel is a good puppy 💕

Sloth

Like his twin, Belphie is veryyyy easy to take care of when he's sick

He doesn't... Do much so it's not like he's gonna hop out of bed and run away from the medicine

Just opens his mouth with a little "ahh~" sound and drinks or eats whatever you shove in his face

He's moody sick though

Well he's always a little moody but when he's sick he's probably a grumpy ass boy

"Ehh, MC why am I sick again? All I smell is snot" he would huff

Likes to pick at your brain a little bit when he's sick

Just really loves listening to you talk all the time and it keeps him occupied enough when he feels like shit and you're there to go on the cute little rambles he loves

Being groggy helps him sleep better, so expect this beautiful little cowboy to pull you in for some more naps with him~

[moveslikebucky]

WIP Wednesday

Hello so it's Wednesday huh? I am so bad about actually posting these but today I have stuff I would really like to share! It's from me and @ouidamforeman's ghosts AU, Night of the Living Boyfriend!, as we soldier on into Chapter 4 and further into Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship and their time spent apart over the summer!

And since I haven't posted one of these in a while, I'm giving y'all a nice and long look at a currently unedited part of the next chapter! A quick content warning for blood in this snippet, but that's kind of just what you get with this Crowley.

---

The bus ride from the airport felt like an eternity, spread out across several miles of beautiful New England countryside that Aziraphale couldn’t even find the good sense to enjoy. Every moment spent in a queue waiting to find out his class schedule made his skin prickle with frustration. Why couldn’t things just move? Didn’t the world know he had better things to do?

Summer with his family had been… well, par for the course honestly. Lots of time alone, secluded from the family he never liked to interact with. Lots of implications about him having the ‘good sense to keep his morals about him’. As though Tadfield University cared one crumb about the family name. As though anyone did anymore. His family was still powerful, but in an old money way that didn’t carry as much weight as it used to. And he’d never wanted any of it anyway.

There were letters, written but never sent. How do you address a letter to a ghost? “The Haunted House Down the Lane” written on an envelope doesn’t really do anything. But he wrote them anyway. Well over a dozen, full of confessions he wasn’t ready to say. It made him feel closer, even though the months with Crowley had felt more like a fever dream than anything else.

Finally, with the schedule finally in hand after what felt like years, Aziraphale was able to return to his apartment. He didn’t even stop to unpack, simply opening the door and throwing his suitcases in before closing it behind him. He had much more important places to be.

He fully expected, if he were honest, that the whole thing never happened. That he’d arrive at the old dilapidated Nutter House and find it completely empty, grown over with vines and cobwebs. No cassette deck, no blankets to keep out the chill, no little plant being nursed back to health.

Aziraphale’s feet carried him down the familiar path as soon as the bus doors opened; muscle memory taking him past the familiar trees at the end of the sidewalk, further into the woods. The leaves were just starting to shift from their verdant green into shades of orange and yellow, the heat of August doing nothing to stem the seasons from changing.

Soon enough, he was at the door of the old house. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, reminded himself that this was somewhere he was wanted. But as he reached for the doorknob, he paused.

Three months had passed. It was a long time. Long enough for someone to move on, if they didn’t hear from someone. Long enough for someone to pass on, if Crowley had found what was tying him to this world. Long enough to be forgotten.

He shook his head, those thoughts wouldn’t do. Either Crowley would be there or he wouldn’t, and at the end of the day it didn’t matter one way or the other. Crowley was his friend first, before everything else that had come along.

Aziraphale knocked politely before turning the knob and letting himself in. The house was unusually cold for the tail end of summer, but it often was. That was one thing all the books on ghosts got right, at least.

“Crowley? Are you here?” Aziraphale asked the empty space as he walked through the house he’d become so familiar with. He made his way through the kitchen, towards the stairwell. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the withered snake plant, flourishing and bright on the kitchen counter, soaking up the sun coming in through the window.

He poked at the soil, finding it just a tad bit on the dry side. It could probably do with a little water at least, and Crowley sometimes took a while to manifest. He took one of the dingy glasses to the outside tap, feeling a cold chill up his spine as he crossed the threshold. So it was going to be like that, was it?

“Goodness me, it’s ever so boring here all by myself. Just me and the plant. The only friend I have to talk to,” Aziraphale said, chewing the scenery of the kitchen for all it was worth. “Woe is me, to be all alone in a crumbling old house. I hope nothing horrible happens to me while I’m minding my own business, watering this plant.”

The cold dripped in slowly, a slight chill prickling at his senses. Like the first sip of strawberry cordial on a July afternoon. It dipped lower and lower still, enough to make Aziraphale shiver. He could see the puffs of his breath in the air as a cold wind came on with a moan right through the small kitchen. A gurgling noise started in the sink basin. Aziraphale looked inside to see a glowing mass of ectoplasm and blood bubbling up from the drain. How dramatic, he thought to himself. Though he supposed after a summer alone he could afford Crowley a bit of dramatics.

The bubbling continued, viscous glowing red blood filling the sink basin, overflowing and spilling onto the floor as Aziraphale rolled his eyes. It creeped across the floor, leaving an iridescent trail in its wake, before coming together and materializing into something – someone – not altogether corporeal.

“Hi,” Crowley said, with his trademark half smirk, eyes glowing red behind the sunglasses he had died in.

“At least there isn’t blood dripping from your mouth this time,” Aziraphale pointed out, unable to contain the fondness slipping into his words.

“Three months away and that’s all you can say?” Crowley asked, trying to look hurt but smiling too wide for the ruse to be successful.

“All you can say is ‘hi’, so what does that say for either of us?” Aziraphale crossed his arms, leaning against the still-bloody counter and raising an eyebrow.

The moment wasn’t awkward, not really. But it was charged. It was a moment that held all of the weight of the past three months of separation. Of no way to keep in touch. Of unsaid words and unsent letters. Aziraphale broke first. “I missed you, my dear.”

The smirk on Crowley’s face shattered, splintering across his features into something much larger and more real. “Missed you too, angel.”

[sherwoodknights]

Me?? Over-analysing The Scarlet Pimpernel??? Its more likely than you think

So, surprise surprise, I was rereading the scarlet pimpernel in hopes of getting any tiny bit of inspiration for The Lady Of The League, and instead, I, of course decided to over-analyse it and came up with a lil theory about our very own Sir Percival Blakeney, Baronet.

Bear in mind that this is just a nerd rambling, I'm probably very wrong-

Also idk how much of a "theory" this is. It's more of a "my brain worked overtime and wouldn't let me rest until I wrote this down and forced it upon my mutuals and followers"

So it's well established within the canon of the Scarlet Pimpernel that Percy stops any suspicion of him being the Pimpernel by hiding himself behind the facade of a brainless, foppish idiot. Which is a very important point, as it's how he manages to keep himself safe for so long.

Even more important is the fact that everyone believes it. His act works, and practically everyone in England remains convinced that Percy Blakeney is just an idiot who managed to marry 'the cleverest woman in Europe' somehow.

But clearly, Percy isn't the idiot he pretends to be. He is, of course, the titular Pimpernel, who is intelligent enough to rescue countless aristocrats from death, to plan escapes very quickly, and just to generally outwit Chauvelin and the French constantly. This is common knowledge to pimpernel fans, of course, so why is Jess basically regurgitating the whole first novel?

Because I have a question:

Why does everyone in England genuinely believe that Percy is a completely incompetent fop?

It's something that I don't think many people really think about. The explanation we are offered in the book is that for the purpose of hiding any association with the Pimpernel and his League, Percy goes out of his way to play the idiot. And that's a perfectly reasonable explanation for it. I know I accepted it unquestionably during my earliest experience with the Scarlet Pimpernel.

But I personally think that it's deeper than this. And that's where my dumb, over-thinking analysis fandom brain kicked in, and started to construct this idea.

So let's start with what we know about Percy Blakeney from the book. Throughout his introduction in chapter 6, titled 'An Exquisite of `92', a point is made of the way he is perceived by English society.

"He, the sleepiest, dullest, most British Britisher to ever set a pretty woman yawning"

"the 'cleverest woman in Europe' had linked her fate to that 'demmed idiot' Blakeney"

"Every one knew that he was hopelessly stupid"

"But then Blakeney was really too stupid to notice the ridicule"

Each is a direct quote from the chapter. So clearly, there is a certain way that he is seen by everyone. And he accepts it. More than this, he plays himself into this view they have, for the sake of his own ends.

But nobody ever explains where this image of Percy comes from, and why it is practically just a fact that he is remarkably stupid.

The book is set in 1792, and the revolution began in 1789. The mass execution of aristocrats didn't come straight away, and Percy and his friends certainly weren't lying in wait for all of this to happen. So at most, Percy has been rescuing people for some time more than a year, and has been married to Marguerite for around a full year of that time. So for Percy to be so well-known by England, he's probably been known to them for longer than he's been Pimpernel-ing.

So why do they believe that he's so incompetent? Surely, if he was as clever as the reader knows he truly is, people would notice if he suddenly turned into a brainless fool for no reason.

Unless they never considered that he was intelligent in the first place.

Which is a weird thought, right? When we clearly know that he is clever. But then it starts to make more sense if you start to consider his history, specifically his mother and what happened to her.

"Although lately he had been so prominent a figure in fashionable English society, he had spent most of his early life abroad. His father, the late Sir Algernon Blakeney, had had the terrible misfortune of seeing an idolised young wife become hopelessly insane after two years of happily married life. Percy had just been born when the late Lady Blakeney fell a pray to the terrible malady which in those days was looked upon as hopelessly incurable and nothing short of a curse of God upon the entire family. Sir Algernon took his afflicted wife abroad, and there presumably Percy was educated, and grew up between an imbecile mother and a distracted father, until he attained his majority. The death of his parents following close upon one another left him a free man, and as Sir Algernon had led a forcibly simple and retired life, the large Blakeney fortune had increased tenfold."

So, there's a lot to unpack here. But the basics come down to the fact that just after Percy was born, an unnamed illness affected his mother's mind, and his father took the family out of England to some unnamed place, which is where Percy would then grow up.

And this is where things started to form for me. We don't know how quiet this whole thing was kept, but it does seem to be told to us as though it was common knowledge, and later on in the book, when Marguerite comes across a portrait of Percy's mother in his study, we find out that she knows what happened to her as well. And then another line from Percy's introduction in chapter 6 jumped out to me on rereading it.

"but then that was scarcely to be wondered at, seeing that all the Blakeneys, for generations, had been notoriously dull and that his mother had died an imbecile."

This tells us that Percy is already at a disadvantage if he wishes to be seen as intelligent.

He has to contend with the fact that his family is know to be dull, and bland, and boring people, and on top of that, he also has to contend with the fact that at least some people know that his mother lost her mind, for one reason or another.

And then you start to consider Percy himself. He was raised and educated abroad. He was more than likely raised by paid servants and hired hands who knew very little of the expectations of an English society gentleman, and his parents, who did know what was expected, were unavailable and occupied by the goings-on.

So that's what we have to consider: Percy was inexperienced in an upper-class English society. He probably had very little idea of what to expect from others, and what others, in turn, would expect from him. And then, when his parents died, he suddenly found himself inheriting a title, and lands with an estate, and a place in this society he had never known.

So when he inevitably returns, what can he do? He won't know many people, and therefore, he won't have many people to learn from. He will be the outsider, the boy who didn't grow up in England, the one who doesn't know how to fit in.

So it starts to come together.

We're told that after his parents passed away, he travelled abroad a lot. But he more than likely would have returned to England at least once, to see his estate, to acquaint himself with a world he will now have to navigate and live in. And when he does, the image of Sir Percy Blakeney that England has begins to form.

There is already the image of the previous members of the Blakeney family, who are known for being "notoriously dull"

There is the whole history of Percy growing up with an "imbecile mother"

And now, he returns to England and joins society with no idea what to do

And so the image forms.

They label him as this fool, as this brainless fop who knows more about fashion than he does about the world. And because he has no way of knowing how to show them that he is in fact intelligent, he accepts it. He takes the role they have given him to play, and he lives it.

Because when he is Percy Blakeney, the idiot who will laugh at everything, who will lead England in its fashion, he is accepted, and he has a place.

And then, enter the revolution. Percy finds himself wanting to do something, and he becomes the famous Scarlet Pimpernel. And he realises that this image of him can be used to protect his life, and that of his most loyal friends and followers in the League.

So I propose the theory to you; Percy did not become the brainless fop to hide himself. Instead, he, in his unseen cleverness, used what people knew and expected of him to deflect suspicion.

And that's why it worked so perfectly. Because in order to hide in plain sight, he didn't have to change a thing about himself.

~~~~

So there we have it! A long, probably very useless rant that will probably never help anyone, but if you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed my take!

Once again, this is just an idea I had about Percy, I'm not claiming it to be canon, I'm probably looking way too deep into this, but I thought I'd share it with y'all

[pearl-blue-musings]

Perchance to Meet pt. 2 REWRITE

Hi y'all. I'm really sad I have to do this all over again because tumblr goofed up big time. I went to edit this for tags and cleanliness and then next thing I know boom it’s gone. I know it won’t be as good as it was when I first wrote it but I will do my best to recreate what I had. This is what I get for not saving it or not doing so when I TOLD MYSELF TOO 😤 again i’m so sorry and here’s my rewrite

Warnings: suggestive language 18+, i think that’t it!

Part 3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Aizawa Shouta is a simple man. Wore clothes that were best for him, always did his duty as a teacher and an underground hero. He was always able to do the right or best thing when it was necessary. Never afraid to back down from what needed to be done.

So why is he standing across the street on his day off from a place he’s been meaning to check out for weeks? He studies the business card in his hand that has the name and address of the building he’s currently staring at. Just for good measure he triple checks the address and store name-

“Personally Yours, Book boutique!”

Black almond eyes widen as Aizawa’s thoughts are perturbed by the loud blond next to him. He’s not sure why he allowed his best friend (don’t tell Hizashi that) to accompany him today to meet the intriguing bartender and bookstore owner. (Y/n) (L/n). That name and face has been plaguing him over the last three weeks from when they first met. The way her hair matched and reflected her personality, her amazing quirk, her willingness to make people’s lives better... 

The way her lips looked incredibly kissable and fuckable at the same time had left him with his hands down his pants many nights.

Aizawa looks to his friend as he sees Hizashi grinning widely from ear to ear, eager about what’s about to happen. It’s been far too long since the blond has seen his friend this worked up over anything, let alone a person! But he knew, deep in his friendly heart, that Aizawa would have done nothing if he didn’t intervene and tell him to go visit her.

“It’s about time you decided to go see her ‘Zawa. It’s been what, like three weeks?” 

“You don’t have to remind me.” Yes, he knew. Aizawa knew we waited two weeks and six days too long to finally reach out or do something. But could the world blame him? He’s a teacher and underground hero already looking for the next class of heroes for U.A.; the man hasn’t had a day off in far too long and now he has one. He can only hope that the lady he kept waiting would understand. But she had to, right?

With what seemed like forever, he finally managed to place one foot in front of the other and cross the street to enter the building. The outside looks quaint, almost too perfect for a bookstore in his opinion. It appears to be one story but there might be living quarters on top of it? Aizawa rolls his shoulders to relieve himself of any tension, turns back to his friend before he promptly goes inside…

And immediately regrets his decision. 

The loud sound that bombarded his ears was something he did not expect. Children. Toddlers maybe, but obnoxious nonetheless. He begins to question whether or not he should stay based on the loudness in the store. However despite the noise, he feels a sense of calmness and home-ness that he felt when he had talked with (Y/n) at the bar. The bookstore smells of cinnamon and vanilla, a combination he thinks he can get used to. The layout seems to be welcoming as well. In the middle, which he assumes is the check out and help desk, is a circular module that has different pathways leading to other parts of the store. Each pathway leads to shelves lined up with all kinds of books, lit above by medium sized lanterns that give the store its unique glow. 

Aizawa surmises that the store is an accurate representation of the bewildering woman he met a few weeks ago. Everything about the size, the layout, the aura reminds him of their plethora of conversations from just one night, and maybe more to come.

He approaches the middle desk in hopes that she would be near. Taking in his surroundings, he realizes that the bulk of the noise is coming from the back, which looks to be a cozy reading nook with bean bag and other comfy chairs surrounded by end tables and ottomans. He can feel the chaotic energy from where he stands.

Hesitantly, he pushes the bell near the cash register. 

“I’ll be right there!”

Stunned at the sound of her voice, he waits patiently but also impatiently for the woman that has been haunting his thoughts for almost a month now to appear. His eyes wander to the counter, however at that moment the sound of sneakers hitting linoleum comes closer to him.

“Hi,” she pants out, holding up a finger. “How, whew, how can I help you…”

She drawls out the last part as she finally sees who had called her attention. Seriously, couldn’t this person know that today was extremely busy? But her thoughts come to a halt when she’s met with deep almond eyes and scruff, even though she’s seen it once, could recognize anywhere.

“Aizawa-san?”

“Just Aizawa is fine. Looks like I came at a bad time?”

“Hah, that’s an understatement,” (Y/n) puffs out. Her eyes must be deceiving her. There’s no way he’s actually here. They had met almost a month ago and it was a meeting she’ll never forget. The hard-working woman is never one to make small talk with her patrons but something about him caught her focus and for the rest of the night and the most of these three weeks, was all she could think about. “Once a month we have a local daycare come in and bring their students to look and explore in the store! Helps them get better at reading and finding out what other things they may like.”

The man before her nods in understanding, unsure of what else to say. He had practiced this moment over and over but now that it’s here he’s unsure of what to do.

“I thought you were never gonna show up. But I’m really glad to see you not in a club, it feels more real I guess?” She paused briefly before beginning again. “I honestly thought I made up the whole thing, or that something was wrong with me…”

“No,” Aizawa interrupts, afraid to hear more. “It’s my fault. I’ve been busy with teaching and being a hero.”

“No I get it. I work two jobs too so I understand how busy you are. I’m glad you’re even here.”

The two of them smile at each other, taking in each others features in that present moment. The feel of familiarity reaches them once again, as if everything around them doesn’t exist and it’s just them. Most of the reason he’s never considered meeting anyone is mostly because of his schedule. Many would find it ridiculous how busy the man is but he cares deeply for what he does and bringing someone new into it would be a whole new level of stress he doesn’t think he needs. He’s married to his job essentially, and so it seems is (Y/n).

Their moment is broken when small hand tugs on the pant leg of (Y/n), stealing her eyes away from his. She looks down to see one of her daycare toddlers staring up at her. The little girl, Yuki, unfaltering in her gaze is clearly demanding attention.

“Oh! Hi Yuki, did you already pick a book to bring home?”

The little girl nods and proceeds to lift her arms above her head, making a grabbing motion with her hands. (Y/n) slyly rolls her eyes and picks up Yuki. Holding her in her arms, (Y/n) turns back to Aizawa.

“This is Yuki. She’s a little shy, soft spoken, but absolutely adorable. She’s also one of my favorites because she’s so quiet.”

Aizawa looks down to the toddler in her arms and doesn’t make any moves to approach. The toddler’s eyes widen at the strange man in front of her, eyes boring into his figure to take him in.

“Hobo.”

“Yuki!”

It takes all of the woman’s strength to not drop the child as her shoulders shake in laughter. Aizawa struggles to hide the embarrassment on his face by looking away from the scene before him. It’s not his fault he prefers to wear all black; it’s slimming and makes him feel comfortable. He’s starting to think that maybe he should have shaved and put his hair in a bun for his day off.

Once his heart has calmed down, he faces the toddler again only to see her being swayed back and forth by (Y/n) as she hums a soothing melody. He knows it’s not a possible thing but his heart skipped a beat at the sight. It was the most domestic thing he’s seen that actually makes him happy.

But at the same time he thinks about having one of his own with her and wanting to fuck her senseless against-

“So I’m guessing this is your day off?”

He stammers, “Uh, yeah. I was hoping we could do something today.”

“Hmm, do something as a date or do something as friends?”

He smirks at her sass, “I’m hoping for the former.”

“That can be arranged. I close early today so, meet me in front of the store at 7?”

“That sounds great, let me give you my number and-“

“Hobo.”

“Yuki!”

She promptly takes the child to the back and excuses herself from the desk. Aizawa searches around him for a spare piece of paper and luckily finds an unneeded receipt and a very purple pen. Once he’s done writing he sees her come back without the child.

“Sorry about that. But, ah, is this your number?”

“Yeah clearly.”

“Well geez, maybe I will put you as hobo in my phone just for that.”

“Please don’t.”

“Oh it’s happening.”

He rolls his eyes at her antics and smiles at her. He doesn’t know what it is, but something about being around her just makes him calm. “Listen, I don’t want to hold you up any longer than I have. But text me when you’re ready. 

“And maybe I’ll give you a night to remember.”

***************************************** He winks at her as he walked out and (Y/n) is left with her heart pumping in her ears. Did she really respond to what Aizawa said with “Oh yeah? Well I hope you do ‘cause maybe I’ll make those fantasies of yours come true. It has been three weeks after all.”? What was that?! She can’t just say she knows what he was thinking by the way his pupils had dilated a couple time, that’s too crazy.

Too weird, nope, she’s not weird at all.

Slapping her cheeks to re-center herself, she approaches the back of her store to meet with the children and her co-workers.

“Finally you’re back,” her co-worker, Kona, sighs. “Who was that? You were gone for a while so I know it wasn’t just another customer.”

“It was, um the guy.”

“Shut up!” he practically shouts, “he came here? After three weeks? Are you gonna see him? Please tell me you’re gonna see him?”

“Kona hush, not in front of the kids.”

He shrugs, “Oh sure, when it’s your sex life it’s all secret secret, but if it’s my sex life everyone has to know!”

(Y/n) slices her hand across her neck. “Shut. It!”

“Fine fine,” he whispers. “But you gotta at least tell me if he gave off daddy vibes at least. Big dick energy? Most guys like that do exude it.”

“You are so lucky I love you or you’d be fired.”

“You didn’t say no,” Kona whisper sang back to her. She did her best to hide the way her eyes widened at that but failed miserably.

Closing time couldn’t come quick enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

here’s the rewrite! @kiribaku-queen @therealwalmartjesus @prk-pyo

[bellylivesthepoguelife]

Overwhelmed. John B x Sarah

Request: Hi! How about a college related drabble? Sarah is super overwhelmed with exams coming up and calls John B starting to panic. He comes to see her and plans a whole night to distract her and comfort her 🥰

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N: I know that I didn’t QUITE follow the whole request on this, but it was getting a bit long, so I hope that makes up for it! I wrote this after I wrote the 500 words of pure angst for these two, so I apologize if it’s a little too angsty. Also, I’m still trying to get comfortable writing the comedic/banter parts of a lot of the pogues relationships. (I’m just not naturally witty so I really have to try!) Anyways, I hope you like it! Please let me know what you think!

Heroes and Villains of the Middle Ages was not a class that Sarah Cameron would have ever taken for fun. But when it satisfied one of her General Education requirements, it's not like she really had much of a choice in the matter. The fact that the professor was about as fascinating as the girls from high school that messaged her saying she'd be a "perfect fit" for joining their pyramid marketing business didn't help. So having to write an essay on 4 chapters of her "textbook" (each chapter ranging anywhere between 30-50+ pages long) was grating her brain, as she legitimately has zero desire to complete it.

An hour into her attempt to read the assigned chapters had her overwhelmed. She couldn't even pretend to find the content interesting, she had no clue how she was going to write a 1,000 word essay on it, and to put the icing on the cake: this was one of four that needed to be completed in the next two weeks as part of her final exam. Exasperated at the thought, she throws the book half way across the room as she finished the second chapter. Making it halfway through warrants a break, right?

She scrolls through instagram to allow her brain to run on auto-pilot for awhile. She scrolls past a photo JJ posted 43 minutes ago, of him, John B, and Kie hanging out at the Chateau. JJ snapped the photo, Kie leaning into him, laughing, while John B is in the background making a "you-caught-me-doing-something-I-shouldn't-have" face, no doubt saying something resulting in the laughs from the other two.

The picture makes her smile. Not just because it's of her friends, but also because between John B and JJ, they'll do just about anything to make their friends laugh. It causes her heart to flutter, and she decides to call him to further distract herself.

It doesn't take long for him to pick up, but it's not John B who answers the phone, it's JJ. "Hey Princess! How's college treatin' ya?!"

"Busy, boring, and yet still somehow not captivating enough to keep me from missing you."

"Oh, so you do miss me."

She rolled her eyes, "of course I do JJ."

"Not as much as you miss JB though, I'm sure." There's a pause, but before she can respond he's rushing out the words: "Oh, speaking of! Okay, Here's John B, I'll talk to you later, love you bye!"

She can tell John B is pulling the phone away from him by the decrescendo of his voice as he gets farther from the microphone. However, the sound of her boyfriends voice filling the speaker at her ear makes her smile even more.

"Hey Val." He greets, and she can tell he's smiling.

"Vlad. I must say it is nice to know that JJ misses me. Even though he won't admit it in as many words."

"Yeah, I think it's safe to say we all do."

"Is Kie still there?"

"Nah, she has to work tomorrow so she went home about 20 minutes ago. How did you know she was over?"

"I saw the picture JJ posted on instagram."

"Ahhh, yeah, that would explain it." She heard him walking around, saying goodnight to JJ before closing what she assumed was the door to his bedroom.

"Did y'all have fun?"

"We did- JJ what the hell, I just told you goodnight." He must have opened the door to John B's room.

Sarah could hear JJ say, "yeah but I didn't say goodnight to Princess! Night Princess!" He calls louder, making sure she can hear him.

"Goodnight JJ!" She calls back, knowing she was more than likely on speaker phone.

"Night Birdshit!" is the last thing she hears before she hears the door slam.

John B is back on the phone in an instant. "I swear, I might actually kill him tonight."

She laughs at their antics, and a bittersweet feeling settles in her chest as she realizes just how much she misses her friends.

"So," John B starts again, "How's your homework coming?"

Sarah scoffs. "Don't remind me."

"That bad?"

"It's just this class is so boring!" He's heard her rant about it a million times, but he lets her do it again. "I mean, it's a 400 level class. And I understand those are the more difficult ones, but--fuck--this is hard, and it's not even interesting in the slightest!"

"Which makes it only about a million times worse."

"It does!" She agrees, thankful that he's empathetic to her suffering. "And I have my Chemistry final next week, and my English 102 research paper due the week after. Nevermind the final project for my Geology, and Quantitative Reasoning class that I've only just started on--" She's ranting, and she knows it.

"Woah. Easy there, Val." He chuckles despite her. "You'll work yourself up."

"I am worked up!" The more she talks, the more overwhelmed she gets, and soon she realizes she's pacing her small room. "I just want to come home." The confession almost stuns her as she's catapoulted into a sea of homesickness, and even the knowledge that she'll be home for the summer in two weeks time doesn't even begin to calm the waves.

"You'll be home in a couple weeks, babe. Just 2 more, and then you're mine for the summer."

She knows he's trying to change her perspective, but she's not in the mood tonight. She's sad, and wants the space to allow herself to be sad. A half-hearted "yeah" is all she manages.

"Hey," John B doesn't miss the dejected tone of her voice, realizing how upset she truly is. "It's gonna be alright, Val. 2 more weeks is a piece of cake after the past seven months."

They'd seen each other since she started college, of course, but even then, the last time they were together was when she came home for Wheezie's lacrosse game 5 weeks ago. And after spending almost every day of last summer together, the distance began to do it's damage. Not on their relationship, no, their relationship was still so, so good. It was just on nights like tonight, when she was so overwhelmed that no matter what she thought of, it only made the drowning feeling three times worse.

She feels her throat tighten and before it even registers that she's getting emotional, she feels the gentle pricks behind her eyes indicating it won't be long and she'll be crying. "It's just really hard right now." She confesses, annoyed with how her voice is full of emotion, which is going to cause John B to go into his protective, "I'll-be-your-hero-and-fix-everything" mode.

And sure as shit, his tone becomes softer, and he's building her up. "I know it is, Sarah, but you're doing so well. I know this has been an adjustment for you, and for us, and it hasn't been easy, but you've been doing so well. You're killing it at college, and you only have these last two weeks, these last exams and projects and then you're home for the summer."

She nods, knowing that he's speaking truth, but still feeling discouraged. "It's just, everything's happening at once right now, and I'm just so overwhelmed, and there's just so much pressure riding on these last projects, and--I just want you."

"What do you mean?" She can tell he's laughing at her rambling confession.

"I mean I just want you. I miss you, John B." Great, that broke the dam, and now she's really crying. "I miss hugging you, and kissing you, and just being next to you. Because at least when I was home and busy, we were still together. Now I have to do all of this by myself, and I just feel so alone, and I just want to come home." She didn't intend to share all of these subconscious thoughts and feelings when she called him on the phone. She had initially just called for a distraction, and to see how JJ and Kie were doing. But sometimes the breakdowns come when you least expect them.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" The question is not how she expected him to respond.

She sniffs, thinking through what her Saturday plans were. "I'm- going to finish this essay, probably work on my projects, and study?" She phrases it like a question, even though she's answering his. After hearing silence for a little too long, she adds, "Why?"

"I'm on my way."

"What?" If she wasn't expecting him to ask what she was doing tomorrow, she REALLY doesn't expect him to say he's coming to see her at 10pm on a Friday.

"What do you mean you're on your way."

"I'm coming to see you." He answers as if it's the simplest thing in the world. She can hear his smile as he talks, probably patting himself on the back for being the hopeless romantic, her knight in shining armor, coming to distract her from her scholarly obligations.

"John B, you don't have to do that." Of course, she wants him to. But it's a ways to drive, and she knows his van isn't cheap to fill with gas.

"Shut up Val." He laughs. "I'm going to spend the weekend with you. But on one condition." He thinks, and then doubles back. "Okay, two conditions."

She rolls her eyes, always thinking there's no way she can be more in love with this man, and then he does stuff like this to prove her wrong. "And what are your conditions?"

"One. You have to write your essay. And I'm going to help you study. You don't just get a 'get out of jail free' card just because your man is coming to see you." He gets her to laugh with that one.

"My man?"

"Yes. That is what I am, isn't it? Your man?"

"Sure. And what's the second condition?"

"You have to buy me my own bag of Skinny Pop." Her eyes automatically roll for probably the 15th time tonight. "Okay, agreed. I will go to the store, and buy you your own bag of Skinny Pop."

"And you can't have any of it." He ammends.

"Alright, fine. And I won't have any of it." She grudgingly agrees.

"Deal."

"Deal."

"That settles it then! I'm on my way!"

"Drive safe, loser."

"I love you, Sarah."

She smiles to herself. "I love you too, John B."

"I'm serious though, don't eat my Skinny Pop before I get there."

[sweetestlamb]

Stronger Part 3 (Unbreak my Heart)

Summary: Gang-tae finally gets a reality check.

Author's note: Slightly tipsy as I wrote this, life has been very busy but I have plans to write a naughty Search:WWW fic so I wanted to get this out first. The next chapters will be the climaxes and y'all can let me know if you want smut in this series, or if you like it nice and wholesome. 🙃🙃🙃🙃 But no worries the smut would come muchhhhh later.

Mang-tae lays limp on the night frosted ground, gleaming button eyes peering up at him in judgement. With a deep rooted sigh he bends over to retrieve the doll, pocketing it before turning from the empty spot she no longer resides.

The happiness that bubbled up at her unforeseen appearance has twisted and crystallized into a rancid pool of disappointment and melancholy at her just as sudden disappearance.

He doesn't understand.

Opening up had been difficult, the most challenging obstacle he'd faced in their.... predicament. She'd been poking and prodding for as long as he'd know her, enticing him to crawl out of his self imposed prison, until he broke. Unleashed all his pain and misery on her like torrential showers thundering from the heavens. Voicing hidden horrors and his not so hidden desires, he'd tried to subdue his feelings but as always she made him act out of character.

The thought of that mad woman harming her made his skin boil with heated anger, so much so that all he could do was kiss her back to life; his grim thoughts had painted morbid tales of her demise and seeing her there on the staircase, painfully gorgeous had been so heart shattering he almost wept.

But somehow that hadn't been enough. His secrets and his scars weren't enough for her, she'd seen the real him and taken his advice to get lost. She wasn't supposed to listen to him, she never had before.

"Geesh what was that about? She looked like a witch out here! Did you two have fight? Why didn't she try to kidnap you and take you home?" Jae-su's bewildered voice cracks through the thumping of his heart, weighty in his chest.

He fumbles to think of an answer. He's at a loss, maybe he was the one who wouldn't understand her for a hundred years.

"I... don't... It's nothing. We're fine. Let's go inside." His friend scoffs, condescending eyes calling him a liar but he ignores them, running away instead.

At least he still has Sang-tae.

"I can't. I'm busy." His brother carelessly rejects his offer to hang out and watch cartoons, stuffing pencils and a notepad into the satchel slung across his body. Fidgeting as he fixes his hair in the mirror, visibly excited about his events for the day. He tries not to be jealous that he isn't a part of those plans.

He fails.

"Where are you going? Can't I come?" He pleads, staring up at his older brother with wide beckoning eyes.

Sang-tae stares back nonplussed, "You're not as cute at the alley cat, that won't convince me. That isn't convincing at all Gang-tae."

With a groan he rolls on the bed roll, before clambering onto his feet. Pulling out his phone he sends Jae-su a text, Do you want to hang out? He freezes as his eyes unknowingly land on her messages underneath, tricks to get him back in the castle and teasing selfies that he had saved once he received them.

He'd composed many messages to her before his thumb destroyed them with systemic viciousness, leaving no letter untouched. There was still a minuscule part of him that envisioned her coming back of her own volition. She always came back, boomeranging back into his life every time he attempted to flick her out. It was a law of his universe.

Yet it had been days since their last interaction and he'd heard nothing from her, no calls or messages, simply radio silence. He was beginning to become worried.

The honk of a car snaps him from his thoughts as Sang-tae perks up at the alarming sound, happily flailing before running out the doors.

He follows blindly, stopping in the doorway gazing down at her familiar car, instinctively he grabs Sang-tae's arm hindering his movement and escape.

"Where are you going?" He asks stupidly as if he can't see what is so painfully obvious.

Sang-tae looks at him with a look that mirrors his own thoughts, "My bestie invited me to a book conference, I'm going as her illustrator. We're going as partners, it's too to make connections she said. I'll be gone all day."

He can't hear Sang-tae's excited spiel over the blood rushing to his face, she hadn't contacted him at all but clearly was still conversing with his brother. Why was she only upset with him? Annoyance and jealousy ebb in equal waves in his blood line.

"Hyung don't you think that's too much? I thought you weren't talking to her right now." He instigates, feeling petty about being the one left out.

"I was but I forgave her, sometimes best friends fight but she apologized so I forgave her. She's going to be a better best friend now."

Sang-tae speaks calmly and certainly, pulling away from his firm grip and skipping down the stairs before hopping into the car.

Finally he allows his eyes to land on the window, readily expecting her answering gaze, eager to lock eyes with her and get lost in time with her.

Her smile is blinding and tender, eyes soft crescents.

But they aren't on him, they are locked instead on Sang-tae. Cloying possessiveness curls around his control and without any acknowledgement of him, they're gone in smoke and the smell of burnt rubber.

He gets drunk, disgustingly so, sloshing the liquid on his sleeves as he loses his balance and almost pitches off the table.

He'd bitten the bullet and finally sent her a message, readying for her to call and for them to fight their way back into their... predicament.

Instead he'd gotten a taste of his own medicine, it was poignantly bitter. It hadn't even been read. He wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.

"I told her everything, things I never even told you! But she's ignoring me, why? Why would she do that?"

Jae-su's eyes are huge as he rambles on, snatching a shot of soju from his hand before he can slam it back, he whines making grabby hands.

"Why did you get so drunk? You said that you only wanted to have a few drinks." Jae-su sighs exasperated, falling back onto the table folding his arms behind his head.

"Jae-su, what did I do wrong? Why won't she answer my messages? I stopped running, I let her catch m--"

"Yah!" They both jump from the volume of the scream, Gang-tae almost falling to the ground in his shock.

Sang-in's rage filled face swims in his vision, intoxication stuttering his movement.

"You think you did her any favors? You think meeting you did her any good? Do you know what she was like after you left her that day? She cried everyday. You broke her. You made her come back to this wretched place, do you know what that castle means to her? You're a selfish prick. Did you even say sorry to her for everything you've done to her?" Sang-in's spit showers his face in a wet splash, a feeling of deja vu overwhelming him.

He blinks back, dazed.

Jae-su shakes himself from his trance, jumping to his defense, "What's your problem? Of course he apologized to her! What are you accusing my best friend of?" He points his finger into the manager's face as they slap and hit each other.

That day. His blood runs cold, remembering his cruel words, berating and belittling her all because he couldn't deal with his feelings for her. Couldn't be honest with his brother or himself.

One time event.

Her tears salty like the sea water that crashed at their feet.

Realization drops on him like a dead weight, severing his air flow.

Did you even apologize?

Did you even say sorry?

He racks his brain scouring his memory desperately, that conversation playing out in his mind like a movie, scene by scene.

Telling her about Sang-tae and his trauma, the effects that had on him and the way he was allowed to live life, inviting her to join this life, be with them.

And, I, need you.

All about him.

He hadn't asked her if she was okay after being targeted by a patient, her skin pale as he ascended the stairs to wrap her in a hug. Her voice was not a part of the conversation, he'd said let's talk but in all honesty he had been the only one to talk.

About his pain.

His suffering.

All about him.

Gosh.

"I'm an asshole." He whispers aloud finally, finally understanding.

Sang-in and Jae-su both pause at his soft declaration, hands tangled from their scuffle.

"You are. But somehow you got the bitch and the nice girl. You don't deserve either."

He has never felt smaller in his life.

Why are you mad?

Stop acting up.

Those had been his messages, the only messages he'd sent to her, nothing but shameful regret fills his veins now, he hadn't done nearly enough. Not by a long shot.

He'd woken up the next day with a killer hangover and a sour taste in his mouth, wanting the ground to swallow him up. He wasn't that lucky.

He'd called her, one, two, three, many times. Each time going to voice mail, testament to her avoiding him.

Mun-yeong. Please.

I need to talk to you.

He'd lost track of the amount of times he'd looked at his phone hopefully, only to be crestfallen when it wasn't her. If this was anything like she felt when he ignored his messages he would never do that again. That coupled with Sang-in's snarky comments and withering glares made him want to pull his hair out.

The castle looms over him as he hesitates at the gate, before pushing it open with a loud creak.

His knocks boom on the hollow wood of the door, pounding as hard as his heart. The castle is silent, he pounds once more.

"Mun-yeong! Ko Mun-Yeong, please open up! I need to talk to you." He hangs his head, hand sliding down the smooth wood.

The silence is deafening.

"Please, Mun-yeong. I'm.... sorry."

He falls to the steps, the strength disappearing from his bones.

"Get up. Stop making such a scene, this was always the outcome. Only I can take care of her."

He twists his head around, eyes too tired to form a true glare but the intent there.

"Where is she?" He demands, fury and shame emboldening him.

Sang-in scoffs at him, walking away after peering through the windows.

He feels his eyes prickle from his emotions overtaking him, life without her was like going from high definition to black and white, his life was lack luster and empty.

"Wait." He begs, tears caressing his cheeks, "Please, where is she? I have to make this right."

Sang-in pauses on the last step, hesitation evident in the sharp angle of his shoulders before he starts walking again, leaving him shattered on the ground.

Sang-in stops at his car, steel eyes as he looks at him with pity, "Maybe it's your turn to start chasing."

The truth can be humbling.

[dreamofmysoul-tsc]

I'll Stay Here With You Until This Dream Is Gone

A story about Matthew Fairchild and James Herondale

Title from “Burning House” by Cam

I’ve never written fanfiction before, nor am I really a writer, but this idea has been poking at my mind for awhile now so I figured I’d write it down. I probably won't write more fanfic btw, my brain just wouldn't let me rest until I wrote this 😅

Little nods to The Haunting of Hill House and Bly Manor if you squint

This story follows the theory that Matthew becomes a Downworlder; in this story he is a vampire, although it isn't that important. Also, lots of angst. Suffer with me y'all. Enjoy!

CW for talks of death and the afterlife

January, 1963

Watery, gray light filters through the thick, velvet curtains despite their best efforts to keep the sun at bay. The house sits quiet, empty save for its owner and a single butler. A man sits at an antique writing desk, blonde head bent over thick sheets of paper, each embossed with a golden MF. He writes slowly, thoughtful of each word he inks onto the pages. A glass of water sits precariously on the edge of the writing desk, half empty.

A series of swift knocks resounds throughout the home. The man doesn't raise his head, expecting his butler, Mr. Wingrave, to answer it. As expected, he hears the door creak open, followed by a quick, muffled exchange. Whoever decided to darken his doorstep leaves as fast as they came, the door closing shut with a resounding thunk. His butler begins to ascend the stairs, but the man continues to write his letter, a half smile beginning to turn up the corner of his mouth.

His bedroom door swings open. "Mr. Fairchild?" Wingrave stands on the threshold, a folded note held in his hand. It is without an envelope, as though whoever wrote it sent it off in a hurry.

"Yes?" Fairchild says distractedly, mind still occupied by his letter.

"A note for you, sent by a Mr. Owen Herondale, sir."

This causes Fairchild to pause. Why did his godson, whom he had visited just last week, send him a letter so early in the morning? Despite his best efforts, he feels a mix of curiosity and mild concern begin to build.

"From Owen? Whatever for?" Not expecting a response, he accepts the note from Wingrave. He unfolds the thin paper and feels his stomach drop.

Father is dying. Please get to the townhouse as soon as you can. He needs you.

-OH

James. His Jamie. He reads the succinct words over and over, unable to fully understand, or perhaps fully accept, their meaning. Of course he knew James was getting on in years, he isn't that in denial, but he had never fully sat back to think about how he would go on or what he would even do when James was gone. Now reality is crashing down on him, harsh and cold, as he lurches out of his seat and grabs for his coat. He barely gives himself time to put his shoes on before he's running out the door, only to be reminded harshly of his vampirism when the winter sun scalds his face. He can't find it in himself to care, ducking his head and sticking to the shaded walls of buildings as he sprints flat out toward Curzon Street.

Thanks to his vampire speed, he manages to limit his sun exposure and make it to Curzon Street in record time. He bangs on the townhouse door, red tears already welling up in his eyes, unnoticed until they begin to fall, cold, down his cheeks.

Owen opens the door immediately, black eyes wretched and lips pressed into a thin line, clearly trying to prevent himself from falling apart. He looks so like James, who always hated to cry too, that Matthew almost lets out the sob building up in his chest, yet he holds it in for Owen's sake. Matthew wraps him in a fierce hug, tucking his godson's face against his neck like Owen used to do when he was a boy. Owen holds onto his godfather's coat, trembling but still trying his best to keep it together.

Owen pulls back, sniffling and red eyed, voice hoarse as he says "Dad is upstairs in the bedroom. He's been asking for you all morning. I'm sorry I summoned you so early, but I just don't know how much time he has left." His voice cracks as he says it, tears finally falling. Matthew holds his face in his hands and wipes them away, pushing his hair from his forehead. Despite being in his 40s, Matthew will always see him as the chubby faced little boy Owen was so many years ago.

Taking a deep breath, Matthew ascends the stairs up to Jamie's bedroom. Cordelia, having passed a year prior, would've reprimanded him for getting dirt and slush on her lovely rugs. He almost chuckles at the memory.

James' door is already ajar as Matthew gently pushes it open. It takes Matthew yet another valiant effort to hold in a sob. James lays back on the bed, hands folded over each other, white hair fanned out behind his head like a halo. He holds a gold necklace in one hand, a miniature globe attached to the end of it, and a photograph in the other.

Matthew takes a seat in the cushioned chair by the bed and rests his hands on the duvet in an attempt to stop their shaking. "Jamie," he whispers, voice hoarse.

James' eyes crack open, still the same champagne gold as when he was a young man, and miraculously, he smiles. Matthew finally lets out the cries he's been holding in upon seeing that smile, warm and earnest, a smile that can only be described as so perfectly James.

James sets the objects in his hands aside and reaches out a surprisingly steady hand as Matthew meets him in the middle. He holds onto James' hand like it's a life raft, pressing his knuckles to his forehead and doing nothing to quiet his crying.

"If I had known it'd be this soon-" he chokes out, red tears staining James' calloused hands.

James cuts him off gently. "None of that, Matthew. What was I supposed to do, wait around until death came for me? My body is giving up on me, Math. I knew that my time was coming and that's exactly why I need you here. Because despite everything, I'm afraid. And although you no longer have the rune, we are still parabatai. I'm afraid of what comes after, Math, and I...please, just sit with me."

Matthew looks up, bloody tears dripping steadily onto James' poor bedsheets. He squeezes his parabatai's hand and he nods. "Of course I'll stay with you, Jamie bach. Whither thou goest, I shall go, remember? Even if I can't feel you, I won't let you go into the dark alone."

James lets out a soft chuckle as tears form in his eyes and squeezes Matthew's hand in return. "Thank you, Math."

As the day progresses into night, Matthew finds himself laying next to his parabatai, pushing his white hair back from his forehead and listening to his slow, wheezing breath. James sleeps and Matthew watches, afraid that if he so much as looks away from him, his friend won't have a hand to guide him into his afterlife.

Owen visits periodically to check on his father, occasionally clutching onto his hand and looking on with heartbroken eyes. He's even so kind as to offer his godfather blood, blood that they kept refrigerated for his visits, but the thought of stomaching anything causes bile to rise in the back of Matthew's throat.

Earlier, while arranging himself on James's bed, he finally caught a glimpse of the photograph James had held in his hand. It was a photo of them in their teenage years, Matthew's arm draped over James' shoulders, dressed in fashions well out of style, bright smiles on their faces. Matthew remembered that day well. It was a hot day in June and they'd gone to Regent's Park to enjoy the summer weather and catch up on reading. What had started as a peaceful summer day had ended with Matthew dramatically-and loudly- reciting passages from Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest while passersby looked on in faint amusement or unmasked annoyance. James had been mortified, repeatedly begging Matthew to stop through fits of laughter, ending with the boys play wrestling in the grass as James attempted to grab the play's script from Matthew's hands. They had ended up with grass stains all over their shirts, leaves sticking up in their hair, and Matthew was fairly certain he'd almost upended their picnic basket into the pond. It had been one of the best days of Matthew's life.

Matthew laughed through his tears as he gazed down at the photo, holding onto James' hand even tighter and continuing to watch him. He had once called James his heart and now he realizes how true he had been. James was always steady and strong, a presence he could rely on when he oftentimes couldn't even rely on himself. He kept Matthew tethered to the earth while Matthew in turn kept James from getting lost in his head. Matthew the kite, James the line. And without the line, Matthew wasn't sure what he was going to do.

Logically, he knew this would happen. James would die and Matthew would live on, unchanging. And one day he would realize he had lived more days without James than with him. The sense of panic he felt at the thought of forgetting his laugh, his dry wit, the specific way he annotated his books, even the way he made his tea, was so strong it almost knocked the breath out of him.

But as he takes in the face of his parabatai, his best friend, that panic winks out as quick as it came. Matthew's death was uncertain, but it wouldn't evade him forever. And although Matthew never considered himself a spiritual man, he believed that he would see James again. He had to believe that, otherwise he knew that his grief would threaten to eat him alive. Matthew knew that James' grief had threatened to eat him alive, too, after Cordelia's passing. If Matthew can gift his friend a peaceful end, he hopes with everything he has that Cordelia will be there to guide James home.

James dies not in the thick of battle or at the vicious claws of a demon, but in his bed, left hand held in the iron grip of his parabatai. He dies gently, quietly, breath suddenly stopping, hands going limp at his sides. Matthew hears his heart stop beating before James even exhales for that final time, pressing his forehead to his friend's and letting himself cry, guttural and grief stricken, unashamedly weeping into his parabatai's neck. Distantly, he hears his godson enter the room despite the late hour. Distantly, he sees Owen fall to his knees next to his father's bedside and clutch at his arm, joining Matthew in his lamentation.

And so, he holds onto James' hand and he cries. And he hopes with everything he has that he will see him again. He keeps that hope in his chest, a lighthouse on a distant, stormy shore, as he closes his parabatai's eyes and whispers, "Ave atque vale, Jamie bach. Hail and farewell."

[kyber-kisses]

Beautiful Loser

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst. (It’s mostly fluff)

Summary: So- Dean may or may not be in love with his best friend. But is he really okay just staying friends?

words: 1,734

A/N: I wrote this for @jawritter​s 500 follower challenge, using Bob Segers Beautiful Loser as my prompt. It took me a few tries but i eventually pulled together this piece. Hope y'all enjoy!

Dean was happy. For the first time in weeks he was totally relaxed and happy. It had become almost like a tradition that every month or so you and him would take a case just the two of you. It was strictly a no Sam event, the younger Winchester honoring your tradition by staying back at the bunker.  He knew how much Dean valued his friendship with you and was always glad to withdrawal from a few hunts every once and awhile.

And that was a whole other thing. Dean and Y/N. Best friends since childhood- at least it was like that until something shifted. . .

Dean didn’t know when it first began. Maybe it was when people began coming up to you and flirting when he was around, or maybe it was when you moved into the bunker. All he knew was that he had somehow, idiotically gone and fallen in love with his best friend. Maybe it was his sudden jealously that clued him in on his feelings, he didn’t know.

And maybe he should have seen it coming. You had been a part of his life for so long that maybe it was just bound to happen? And with all the similarities you had to him, it was almost like you were molded and created by God to be his friend. From your love of extra onions on your cheeseburgers to the way you hummed rock classics when you were deep in thought, you were just. . . everything Dean could have ever wished for. Your dumb jokes could rival his own, and though he would never admit it out loud; you were almost a better hunter than he was.

The whole situation had him thinking back to that conversation Sam had with him a few months back, about if he ever thought about settling down with someone who knew the life. He had tossed the idea aside like it was a candy wrapper- but not before an image of you had popped up in his head. It had only been for a millisecond, but it had happened. After that it was like he wouldn’t let himself forget it. In truth, who better to fall in love with than you?

But he knew he couldn’t have that. It wasn’t in the books for him, plus- he couldn’t have it all. He was a hunter, he took what he could get and was grateful. If that meant staying as your best friend then so be it.

“Dean? DEAN!” you snapped your fingers again, this time successfully pulling the hunter from his thoughts.

“What?”

“You were totally in the zone. I’ve been trying to talk to you for the past two minutes.”

“I was thinking. Sue me.”

The two of you sat perched on the hood of the impala, a quart of peanut butter and chocolate ice cream balanced between you. It was somewhat of a tradition that after a hunt the two of you took the longer route home, bought a carton of ice cream from the nearest gas station and parked Baby out in the middle of nowhere. You would take the worn leather seats of the impala over a sketchy motel mattress any day. Here it was quieter. Here you really just got to be with Dean.

“Thinking about what?” Folding your legs together you passed the container over to the hunter, watching as he picked at the ice cream with the flimsy plastic spoon.

“The time I pushed you into that motel pool.” He lied, opting to feed you a believable answer in hopes of you backing off and taking the bait.

“Hey, if I remember correctly I pulled you in with me before you could get away.” You grinned, tapping him with your spoon. “You looked like a drowned rat.”

“No better than you looked.” his comment earning him a swat on the head before his own smile tugged at his lips as he turned his gaze from the slowly melting ice cream to you. Both your smiles growing as you tried to suppress you laughter right along with Dean. What began as just a hiccup of a laugh quickly gave way to the full bellied laughter as the two of you thought back to the memory. Those were the times he really cherished, when the two of you could simply goof off in peace.

“But seriously-“ your laughter died down, eyes still crinkled as you looked over at him. “What were you thinking about?”

His own laughter slowly puttered out as his eyes went back towards anything other than you. Everything in him wanted to blurt it out. Tell you how he really felt- but he locked it down. No. He was okay with just being friends and beyond that he knew you only saw him as that. just friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I’ve been thinking about- what I want.” The words felt heavy on his tongue. He could give you the bare minimum of information, steer you off course.

“Oh? We about to go deep then?” You mused, taking the container of ice cream back and shoving your spoon into it. “Do I need to break out my bottle of very special bourbon?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t be against it.”

And before he could stop you, you were sliding off the hood of his precious Baby and ducking into the open passenger window. He expected for you to simply pop back up with your prized bottle of Wood-ford reserve Kentucky bourbon, but instead you also decided to crank up the radio, Bob Segers voice flowing freely from the open windows of the vehicle.

Rounding the hood once more, you held up the bottle, Deans hand reaching out for it only for you to snatch it back. “Ah, ah, ah. You wanna drink, you gotta pay up.”

The hunter let out a groan, head falling back. He should have known you would pull something like this. This was your way of getting his guard down and really opening him up. And it worked. Every. Single. Time.

“Y/N, no. I don’t wanna.” He whined, trying to ignore the massive grin on your face as you playfully danced towards him to the tune flowing out of the car. “Please don’t make me sing.”

But at this point you were past bargaining with, singing into the bottle like it was a microphone.

“Beautiful loser, where you gonna fall?

You realize you just can't have it all.”

It was almost ironic, you standing there singing the lyrics to a song that hit way too close to home. It was like the universe was out to get him- or maybe it was Chuck. And then you were suddenly yanking him forward to dance with you, slinging the arm with the bottle around his shoulder as you moved to the tune of the upbeat song, continuing to belt out the lyrics and earning a warm and amused smile from the Winchester.

“He's your oldest and your best friend

If you need him, he'll be there again

He's always willing to be second best

A perfect lodger, a perfect guest

Beautiful loser, read it on the wall

And realize, you just can't have it all

You can't have it all, you can't have it all

Oh, oh, can't have it all.”

He wasn’t a dancer. But here you were, whirling him around with you and he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. He loved being this close to you and you looked so incredibly happy. It was infectious to the point of which he found himself singing along with you. You were successfully pulling down his walls one by one and weaseling your way further into his heart. As the music faded into its instrumental portion, you slowed down, eyes still bright as you looked at him.

“Can I tell you something, Dean Winchester?” You swallowed, panting on the humid summer air, almost like you were drunk on it. “If you want something, reach out and grab it. Don’t let anything slow you down.”

It was like he buffered. His steps faltered and his eyebrows knitted together momentarily before he gave you another soft smile. “What if I can’t? What if it’s out of my reach?”

“You don’t know until you try. Maybe if you told me what it is you want I can help you reach out for it. You deserve everything good in this life.-“

but you never got the chance to finish before Dean had two calloused hands on your face and was pulling your lips to his. And just like that it was like every synapses in your brain shorted out. It took a second before you were kissing him back, wrapping your arms around him despite your shock. You did tell him to reach out and grab what he wanted.

You just never expected that to be you.

“I’m sorry-“ he quickly pulled away, suddenly realizing what he had just done, almost entirely oblivious to the fact that you had had your arms around him. “I shouldn’t have done th-“

“Hey, beautiful loser. Stop apologizing.” You quickly shut him up, because this time it was your turn to reach out a grab what you wanted. Pulling him back to your lips, you successfully made the hunter freeze. And just like the peanut butter ice cream still balanced on the hood, you could practically feel him melting into you. Between the upbeat piano music in the background and the fierceness of the kisses it felt like the two of you had stepped into the happy ending of a movie, your silhouettes dancing against the orange setting sun. When you pulled away, you were met with a gaze that made your bones feel like jello, the older Winchester looking at you as if you were some miracle sent from the heavens.

“You told me if I wanted something, I should reach out a grab it.”

“So I did. And I did exactly the same.”

“So you did.” And then he was snaking his arm around you, pulling you in, and pressing his lips against yours once more. He never would have believed you felt the same before this moment,and  as he stood there, gazing at you and the almost golden trim the setting sun had given you he realized something else: That just maybe, he could have it all.

The End.

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[ashiiixoxo]

| Match made in Heaven | Lucifer x Demigod! reader

a/n- I hope y'all like this one even tho its 11.24 pm here and my 4 braincells keep thinking about the festivals event WITH SATAN AND LUCIFER IN A FUCKING YUKATA. enjoy~

summary- for the sake of your own safety you were send to Devildom, where Lord Diavolo would take you under his wing, being well aware of the abilities you possessed. you, being okay with going to Devildom, never expected to meet former angels. neither did you expect to fall in love down there.

masterlist

part 3 -  nosey brothers

you were showed around the House of Lamentation and tried to memorize everyones rooms and where to go and where not to go. everyone goes to their respective rooms, leaving you alone with Lucifer, whose room is next to yours. the awkward silence was broken when Lucifer opened your room door and said “go rest, dinner will be served shortly.” he turned around and left to his own room.

walking into your room, you admired how much it looked like your old one, except, the pictures with your friends and mom weren't there. you looked in the mirror of your closet. you looked like a mess, felt like one too but your hair and clothes looked slightly disheveled. opening the closet, hoping to find some comfortable clothes to put on, you found multiple uniforms.

your phone buzzed, signing that you got a text message.  Diavolo: This is my account. Diavolo: Feel free to send me a message any time. Diavolo: I forgot to mention that you will be attending to RAD with the brothers.

you opened the messages and checked his profile before responding.

Y/n: Thanks for letting me know! Y/n: I saw the uniforms in my closet already.

you locked your D.D.D and felt too tired to change clothes. in the human world it would be early in the morning already while here, it’s not even dinner time. the time in Devildom goes way slower than in the human world and its effects started to show.

you yawned and laid down on your bed. ‘it feels much softer than my own’ you sighed. you couldn't bring yourself to lay on the bed with the clothes you had worn the whole day. you remembered that Asmodeus had told you that each room has its own bathroom. sighing in relief you decided to check the two doors in your room.

the first one you opened was a storage room, filled with, what looked like some of your belongings and herbs. deciding that you had no business in that room to check anything you closed the door and headed to the other door. ‘this should be the bathroom then?’ the door creaked. 

looking inside, there was a large marble floored bathroom, slightly beige and (fave colour). you smiled at the sight of the bathtub and the shower cabin. you checked the cabinets for any type of skincare products and towels.

you sighed when you found nothing to clear your face with, but you did find the towels. taking some clothes from your closet and some underwear, you headed into the shower.

-

while you were showering some of the brothers decided that they wanted to chat with you a bit, only to find your room empty. they heard the water running and realized you were showering.

They let themselves inside your room and admired the way your room looked.  Satan found himself in front of your bookshelf.  Looking at the numerous books going from fiction to non-fiction, spiritual books, books about witchcraft, as well as science and anatomy books. He noticed books that he had himself, bought in the human world. On the other hand, Asmodeus found himself standing in front of your mirror and looking through your clothes. Admiring pieces he thought were cute or pretty.

Asmodeus beamed whenever he came across a revealing top or a dress.  Going, “this is so cute!” or “pretyyy” while looking at all the clothes in your closet. Meanwhile Belphegor made himself comfortable of your soft bed. As soon as his head rested on your pillow he was fast asleep.

While Mammon was looking around your room, being awfully quiet. He looked at your belongings, thinking to himself how much Grimm he can make of your furniture, accessoires and instruments (if you play any).

Satan took one of your books that seemed interesting, it was one of your notebooks where your mother wrote about your blood. You never really looked at it but it caught Satan’s eye. When he decided to open the book, he saw a sigil carving on it, a sigil used by witches to keep away demons.

He took note of the sigil and placed the notebook back. ‘Whatever was written in there shouldn’t be read by demons. And whoever wrote it, wields some real strong magic.’ Satan thought to himself.

You opened the bathroom door and saw the four demons looking through your stuff. Being too amused by their reactions, you quietly stood at the doorframe, observing them.

“I could sell these things for a whole lot of Grimm.” Mammon grinned, holding some of your traditional fans. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the fans. ‘why would you sell something as old as that?’

You saw Belphegor asleep and Asmodeus looking through your clothes. You held back a smile. Looking at Satan, who was quietly nodding while reading “the Resurrectionist”. He must like anatomy of mythical creatures. He seemed way too into it.

“sweatpants, really?” Asmodeus looked at the few sweatpants in your closet. “tsk tsk, why wear sweatpants when you have cute clothes like these.” You put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket and wrapped the towel around your hair.

“they’re really comfortable and easy to wear.” You grinned. You felt at ease. Even though they were demons, you didn’t feel threatened. It made you feel save even though they were looking through your stuff.

The demons snapped their heads into the directions your voice came from. They backed away from what they were touching, Mammon tripping over his own leg. You shook your head and dried your hair. “sorry, we didn’t mean to go through your belongings like that.” Satan was the first to apologize.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “what brings all of you to my room?” you asked while drying your hair. Asmodeus grabbed your hand and the towel and started to dry your hair. “don’t rub your hair, it will break. If you pat it, it will stay healthy and it will untangle easier.” He adviced. You nodded your head and thanked him. You felt your whole body relax as Asmodeus raked his fingers through your hair, eyes half shutting at the feeling.

“we came to talk to you.” Mammon answered your previous question. “about?” you inhaled when you felt Asmodeus fingers trailing down the back of your neck to your spine. You immediately moved away from him. ‘What the hell was he doing?!’ you thought.

You shook your head ‘demons’. Asmodeus got startled because of your sudden action and immediately moved his hands up. “was that too much?” he asked. Your eyes were wide and you felt the stinging pain on your back again. ‘Did he do that on purpose?’ you shook your head and muttered a sorry.

There should be no way he would know unless Diavolo had told him. “again, what did you guys want to talk about?” you asked, you were tense. Mammon shrugged at your action and answered “just talking.”

You nodded you head. They made themselves comfortable on the floor, bed and chair in your room. You joined on the floor with Satan. “so what is there you guys want to know?” you asked.

Mammon was the first one to speak up. “why are you not scared of us?” he was annoyed by the fact that you did not fear him the way he wanted to be feared. You shrugged. “this place is supposed to keep me safe, you guys are supposed to keep me safe. I guess I don’t feel that scared here.” Mammon wasn’t satisfied with your answered and shook his head.

“I’m THE great Mammon, Avatar of Greed, how can you, a mere, fragile human being, not be scared of me.” You shook your head. “so apparently the human world isn’t safe for you anymore, that’s why you’re here right?” you nodded your head, confirming.

“everyone will think you’re another exchange student.” Asmodeus sighed. “maybe that’s for the better, if the other demons think she’s an exchange student, they won’t bother her.”

“why is everyone talking so much.” The sleepy demon sat up and rubbed his eyes after being woken up from his slumber. His eyes landed on you, and he remembered why he fell asleep on your bed in the first place. “did you sleep well?” you asked. “hm? Yeah I did.” Belphegor yawned. “your bed is very soft.” He smiled slightly.

While we were talking, a glaring Leviathan stopped in front of the door. “Lucifer is calling for all of you, dinner is ready.” He muttered and walked away. “we need to go before Bee eats everything!” Mammon sprinted out of the room.

Asmodeus, Satan, Belphegor and you walked towards the dining area and took a seat.  Satan sat next to you, he sighed softly. He never got to ask you what he wanted to ask you. He now, had to wait until he could talk to you alone.

<previous - next>

Taglist  (ask to be added)- @cheesey-fox @inlustris-arts @izzieg3987 @salty-hearts

[girlwithshipsshitshow]

Part 25

(Misaki Kneeled in front of his parents grave, tightly holding Usagi's hand, even though his tie had just been fixed before they left they house, it was somehow already crooked. He had no idea what to say, should he start by apologizing that he hadn't been to visit in the last fourteen years? Or introduce Usagi first like it's just a normal conversation.)

Misaki: (lets out a long sigh, Usagi Squeezing his hand for encouragement). Uh, hey mom, dad. This feels weird, I know I never really came to visit, mostly because for the longest time I thought your death was my fault, a-a-and I know that sounds dumb but it's true, so I never came, I'm here today because I lot is happening. I'm graduating!, I'm also getting married, to this guy. He's the love of my life, if you guys we're alive I'd think you'd love him. (He smiled gently at Usagi), His name is Akihiko Usami, but I call him Usagi. He's amazing, the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm so lucky to have him, I want you to meet him.

Usagi: Um hi, I don't know how to introduce myself, should I say Usagi? (He ducked his head), No that sounds weird, I'm Usami. Misaki says he's the best thing that's ever happened to him, but truthfully, he saved me, I would not be this person without him. Before we met I was kinda an awful person, I never let anyone in, I was a mess, I almost died a few times, I never ate properly, I never really opened myself up to anyone, I had al these walls up, then Misaki came and I was this a different person. (he chuckled softly), Some might say softer. Misaki is the only person I've truly felt combatable with, he's my soulmate and best friend, the best person you could ever ask for, he's doing okay, he's happy, I'm so grateful for him.

Misaki: (softly), Usagi... (He wrapped his arms around the older man, leaning into him), I love you.

Usagi: I love you too. Thank you for bringing me here.

Misaki: Thank you for coming.

Usagi: You're parents would be so proud of you.

Misaki: How do you know?

Usagi: Because I'm so proud of you, how could they not be.

Misaki: Thank you.

(They stayed there for a while, in a silent embrace paying their respects, Misaki was happy he decied to come, he needed it. He was so grateful to have this man in his life, and really needed the support today.)

Monday March 16, 2020... six days before graduation.

(Misaki woke up feeling beside him, the space was empty, he was confused, usually this early in the morning Usagi would still be asleep, he rubbed his eyes, blinked a few times then gave his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the light, turning his head towards the alarm clock he realized it was only eight am, yeah Usagi should definitely still be asleep).

Misaki: Usagi?! (He called loudly, his voice was groggy from just waking up)

Usagi: Good morning, (He smirked entering the room with a tray of breakfast consisting of coffee, eggs, hash browns, and bacon).

Misaki: (Smirks): What's all this?

Usagi: (Sitting on the bed carefully placing the tray between them, he hands Misaki the cup of coffee and places a kiss on his cheek). I made you breakfast.

Misaki: You didn't have to do that. (He takes a sip of coffee, the warmth wakes up his body, he smirks, taking Usagi's hand), You're amazing.

Usagi: I know it's not a trinational bra-

Misaki: Stop it, I love it. (He smiles, taking a bit of everything), It's great.

Usagi: I'm glad you think so.

Misaki: So why are you up so early?

Usagi: A man can't wake up early to make breakfast for his fiancé?

Misaki: (Smirks, giving him a knowing look).

Usagi: Um, Isaka called last night after you went to sleep-

Misaki: How rude, Doesn't he know not to call in the middle of the night?

Usagi: I agree, but he's my boss.

Misaki: He's your friend, and as your friend he should know not too.

Usagi: He wanted to talk to you, but I told him you were asleep.

Misaki: Why does he want to talk to me?

Usagi: He wants to have a meeting with you today about us, and you being my assistant.

Misaki: Um, why now? I'm not starting until like the begging of may.

Usagi: I don't know, but he want's to meet at noon, so eat up.

Misaki: I'm supposed to tell you to do that. You're still recovering you know.

Usagi: So, feed me.

Misaki: (Smirks, feeds Usagi a piece of bacon, the older boy takes his hand lacing his fingers through his, pulling him into a kiss, knocking the food on the bed). Usagi!

Usagi: We can clean it up. (He pulls Misaki on top of him, running his hands through his hair, they kiss passionately), Hey, (he pulls away breathing heard, pushing hair out of Misaki's face, (wanna take this to the shower?

Misaki: I don't know Usagi... (He trailed off, he Missed having Usagi inside off him, he missed being inside of Usagi, but they only had six more days till they could have sex again, surely they could wait it out right?)

Usagi: I know we have six more days till we can have sex again but.. I can help you shower right? (He grinned kissing Misaki's neck, the younger boy moaned.)

Misaki: Um, do you really think it's a good idea to show up to a meeting with love bites on my neck?

Usagi: That's okay, I can put them other places.

Misaki: We can shower together, but maybe nothing that will cause a delay in getting ready?

Usagi: Fine, (He sat, gently pushing Misaki to stand), But you owe me.

Misaki: (Grins leaning down), We have three whole weeks alone once I graduate, that trip you planned, I know where it is by the way, not in Tokyo, we'll have plenty of time to do other things.

Usagi: (Wraps his arms around Misaki's neck), Good, and we are never leaving the bedroom.

Misaki: Okay. (Kisses Usagi, then pulls him up leading him to the bathroom), Now help me wash my hair, I love when you do it.

Usagi: No problem.

(Misaki Stood outside Isaka's door he was nervous, he kept messing with his tie, it was crooked again. Usagi glanced at him, fixed his tie, and his hair).

Usagi: Sweetie, you have to relax, you already have the job, trust me, being my assent will be easier for everyone. (He kissed him softly on his forehead). Just go in, he's expecting you.

Misaki: You should come to, I'm sure he'd loved to see you.

Usagi: I can't help you with this one, he told me I wasn't allowed.

Misaki: (Sighs), Okay. I love you.

Usagi: And I love you. You're amazing, you can do this. I'm going to bug Eri.

Misaki: Leave her Alone.

Usagi: She loves me.

Misaki: Usagi-san!

Usagi: TOO LATE (at the elevator), I'm already here! Good luck! I believe in you!

Isaka: (Opens door): Misaki! (Hugs him tightly), Get in here! Lets talk.

Isaka: You already have the job, this is just a formality. No one wants to be his assistant.

Asahina: No one.

Misaki: (Angry): No one asked you lover boy.

Isaka: Things you can't do in public, Holding hands.

Misaki: What about y'all?

Isaka: You already know about us.

Misaki: When I start the Job, everyone will know the two of us are engaged.

Asahina: Fair point, even so, you can't be all over each other.

Isaka: Keep it professional.

Asahina: To be fair Isaka; If you had it your way, we would be all over each other at work, but you don't so.

Isaka: Anyway, Meetings, he still hates them.

Misaki: I know, but he has to have them, we need to keep them to an hour, book signings and releases should be at least an hour and half not all day events, although if I'm there we can probably get them for two hours, he won't do much more than that, even if I'm with him. Events that have to be longer, he would only do a day long event, no matter what, he hardly wants to be at my graduation, I don't even want to be there.

Isaka: What about b-

Misaki: Book tour? That's a joke.

(Isaka and Asahina glanced at each other, frowning).

Misaki: A BOOK TOUR? NO WAY WHY?

Isaka: He wrote four books, we want all of them out at the same time, we figu-

Misaki: Okay, some of those we're written under his pen name you can't-

Isaka: Maybe it's time for him to come clean about that.

Misaki: What?

Isaka: He came out, you guys are going to come out as a couple, I'm sure he'll be fine with it, plus he would probably make more money if people knew the books were about you two.

Misaki: The early ones weren't. He doesn't want my brother finding out about that. (Misaki blushed he was turning beat red, this was not happening).

Isaka: Him, or you? We'll just call him up here and ask... (He picked up the phone, dialing a number).

Eri: So have you guys deiced on a date?

Usagi: No, but Misaki knows how much I love Cherry blossoms so maybe in the spring, but also snow is important to us, so could be in the winter.

Eri: You can't plan that though.

Usagi: Doesn't matter, ever significant event in our lives happened when it was snowing, or snow started. It's fate.

Eri: (Smiles) Like you two.

Usagi: Exactly.

Eri: So d, (Her phone starts ringing) One sec, (She rolls her eyes), Its Isaka, (Picks the phone up), What? he is, we're busy, fine, he'll say no but I'll send him up anyway... Okay, Yeah we can do lunch, the five of us? you ask them. Bye Isaka. (Puts the phone back in the receiver, roiling her eyes), He's a pain in the ass.

Usagi: I know, what did he want?

Eri: He want's to talk to you, I told him you'd say no, but you should go up there anyway.

Usagi: What was his question?

Eri: (Sighing), I'd go find out.

Usagi: Okay. (Stands, leaning down to hug Eri).

Eri: Oh, and we're all having lunch together.

Usagi: Of course we are.

(Misaki taps his fingers in the desk, he can feel himself turning red by the second, when Usagi walks in and sits beside him he freezes, he hasn't felt like this around him in A long time).

Usagi: What's up?

Misaki: (Through gritted teeth), you don't want to know.

Isaka: How do you feel about doing a book tour?

Usagi: (Folds arms, leaning back in seat), I think you already Know the answer to that. What else?

Isaka: You're books about the two of, the ones under your pen name?

Usagi: Yeah, I know the ones? What about them?

Misaki: He want's you to say you're the one who wrote them.

Usagi: No, I can't do that, I don't want anyone to know I wrote the early ones.

Misaki: That's what I said.

Isaka: Like Misaki's brother?

Usagi: I can't ever let him know how I felt about him. If it was know I wrote those books, and thought about that... oh god (Places head in hands), and if I think about doing that stuff with Misaki.

Misaki: (Blushing harder)

Isaka: Wow, I didn't know you could turn that red.

Asahina: That is interesting.

Usagi: I can't do a book tour, two of the three books I wrote are the books about Misaki and I.

Isaka: But the other two aren't.

Misaki: He'll do a two month book tour with his books under his name.

Isaka: I think we can figure out a way to release the books under your pen name without any trouble.

Usagi: The scenes were Eri's ideas, most of them.

Misaki: My brother doesn't read that, but he will if he knows that you wrote them.

Isaka: Maybe we only print the new ones? Wipe the old ones out of exc-

Usagi: I'm telling you no!

Isaka: Some people already know, you kinda let it slip when you came out.

Usagi: I know, but I don't want anyone to know who doesn't already, plus I have the "All names are completely a coincidence"

Misaki: Yeah, right. We are going on tour with his two new books, "Beautifully drawing swords" and "Broken scars".

Isaka: Why are those titles so sad.

Misaki: A lot of his are, do you even read his books?

Usagi: The books aren't sad, "Broken scars" is-

Misaki: It's about two who are broken, they meet by chance after running away from home, fall in love and learn that broken people can heal scars.

Usagi: (Smiles) Yeah, You read the manuscript?

Misaki: Of course I did, Beautifully drawing swords was good too, more of a short story though, I wish it was longer.

Usagi: I wanted it to be, but the more I was writing it, the more I thought it worked better as a short story.

Isaka: What's that one about?

Misaki: A girl who collects swords finds a broken one a thrift shop, and makes it into a new one, she bonds with another girl across the street, and they talk about their sword collection, it's cute.

Isaka: Doesn't sound like something you'd usually write.

Usagi: I know, but I Got inspiration from a picture that Mahiro made, Eri thought it would sell, if she didn't I wouldn't have written it.

Misaki: I think kids will love it, and teens.

Isaka: I like it.

Usagi: You did agree to it.

Isaka: Did I?

Asahina: Yeah you did.

Isaka: Oh, well... it sounds sweet.

Misaki: I'm proud of him.

Isaka: You should be. Misaki, you're going to make a great assistant for him. No one can handle him like you, I mean I guess Eri, but you got him to write four books in two months, and all of them are amazing.

Misaki: (Shrugs), I don't know how.

Usagi: (Wraps his arms around Misaki), Because you're amazing, and I love you.

Misaki: I love you.

Isaka: What do you say we all go get lunch? Anyone up for pizza?

Asahina: Sure, call Eri, lets meet her in the lobby.

Misaki: Thanks for lunch Eri, (He hugged her tightly).

Eri: Anytime, hey so can I come hang out with yall later, Rose is working all week, and it's going to be lonely going home.

Usagi: Sure, but just for a bit, and you can't spend the night.

Isaka: (Laughs), Classic Usagi, not letting anyone in. (Points to Misaki), except Chibi here. (He pulls him into a hug. You're the only one.

Usagi: (Annoyed), Get off him.

Misaki: (Pushes Isaka off), Go hug your boyfriend.

Isaka: How did you do it.

Misaki: Even If I knew, I wouldn't tell you.

Usagi: (Takes Misaki's hand), No one can but him, and if we have kids.

Eri: You would spoil your kids, especially if you had a baby girl, Please have kids now!

Misaki: Can we finish building our house first? and get married?

Eri: (Clears throat), Oh yeah, sure. But after.

Misaki: You'd still want to be our surrogate right? because it might be hard japan stil-

Eri: Misaki, yes and don't worry, Rose said Ren can help, it's going to be okay.

Isaka: speaking of marriage, you guys still can't technically-

Usagi: We Know, Go to work, Asahina, take him upstairs.

Asahina: Got it, (Smirks), Pulling Isaka inside.

Isaka: HEY! YOU WORK FOR ME!

Asahina: (whispering) I'm the boss in this relationship.

Isaka: (Blushes).

Usagi: We know we need a Partnership certification.

Misaki: And that it doesn't grant us everything that a marriage would, but It's the best we can do right now.

Eri: When do you guys want to get married?

Misaki: (Grins), Winter, (He takes Usagi's hand), The snow is special to us.

Eri: You should get started now, at least looking at the documents, I heard it can take up to five moths. (Walks towards building). I'll email some information.

Misaki: (Siting on Usagi's lap, they are in his office on the couch, documents for the certificate in front of them. He sighs bowing air out), I didn't think it would be this much, we have to do this much!

Usagi: Yes. It doesn't change your mind, does it?

Misaki: (Turns to look at Usagi), What? Of course not, (He takes Usagi's face, rubbing his thumbs against his soft skin), No, it just means we have to look through all of this carefully, so we only have to do it once. If we start in August, we can have our certificate by December, maybe a little before. We'll also start the movie process by then, if we don't have any problems our house should be ready by the summer right?

Usagi: (He places his hands on Misaki's), Right, and by December we'll be moved in, we wanted to have a ceremony at our house anyway.

Misaki: Exactly It's perfect! (He grinned kissing Usagi hard), Now we need to put this in a safe place.

Usagi: I have just the spot. (He lifted Misaki, placing him beside him, stood up walked over to his desk. Opening a drawer in the bottom of his desk, he pulled out a binder marked wedding. He grinned hoping on the couch handing it to Misaki).

Misaki: Wedding?

Usagi: I've kinda been planning our wedding ever since you proposed.

Misaki: (Grins), Usagi, this is so sweet. (He holds the binder to his chest).

Usagi: Don't you want to look at it?

Misaki: Yeah, but I just remembered, I have to go get my graduation stuff, and the suit.

Usagi: Want me to come?

Misaki: Can you drop me off at the school?

Usagi: Yeah, and I can get our suits.

Misaki: Perfect. When we come we can look at the binder.

Usagi: (Eyes lighting up), Good because I have lots of ideas.

Usagi: I can't believe they had a gown that small, I bet it could fit Suzuki-san. we should test it.

Misaki: No, this, along with our suits stay in the closet until Saturday, then you can give it to Suzuki-san. (He took the suits and the gown from Usagi hanging them in the closet, then took Usagi's hand grinning at him). Okay, so let's look at the binder, you've been grinning about it all day.

Usagi: I'm so excited. (He smirked leading Misaki to the office, once there he placed the smaller man on his lap then opened the binder.) Okay so for us I'm thinking purple and blue wedding suits, purple for me.

Misaki: Of course, it'll bring out your eyes.

Usagi: Something like this. (He pointed to a picture).

Misaki: That's amazing.

Usagi: And for you, this one.

Misaki: I love it.

Usagi: And everyone else can wear black or red.

Misaki: Okay, any ideas on cake?

Usagi: Lemon, but I want it on theme, maybe this one?

Misaki: Maybe.

Usagi: You don't like it?

Misaki: It looks good, but I know we won't have a lot of people, we might need something smaller.

Usagi: Right.

Misaki: Don't say it like that (Kiss cheek), We have time.

Usagi: I know, I just wanted you to like it

Misaki: I do, and honey, we don't have to agree on everything okay?

Usagi: It would just be easer if we did.

Misaki: I know.

Usagi: We agreed on everything for our house easily.

Misaki: But not everything, there was some stuff you thought wouldn't work, and that's fine.

Usagi: I loved must of the stuff, some things I thought didn't work, so we changed them.

Misaki: Right, and it'll be like this planning our wedding.

Usagi: Okay, right. So the ceremony, you want it outdoors?

Misaki: Right.

Usagi: It might be cold though so should the reception be indoors?

Misaki: Maybe, we can look into that the closer we get.

Usagi: Okay.

Misaki: OH, the theme is amazing!

Usagi: Really?

Misaki: Yeah, I mean we won't need that many seats, but I get the idea.

Usagi: Purple winter wonderland.

Misaki: I Love it. (He turns to face Usagi embracing him), I LOVE YOU, so much!

Usagi: I love you too. (Picks up documents), Now these need to go in.

Misaki: We're getting closer.

Usagi: I know.

Misaki: I can't believe it, we've come so far huh?

Usagi: Yeah. Sure have. (He hugged Misaki tighter taking in his smell, he loved ever single thing about him, he always wanted a person, and now he had one).

[harry-styles-sunflower]

Meeting You In The Hallway Part 4

a/n: HII lovely people! I hope you are all doing well today! This is part 4 of Meeting you in the Hallway.

What it is: You move into the apartment across the hall from Harry and you begin a friendship which you both want more from but can’t communicate that want.

Word Count: 7.1K

Warning: cursing and smuttt ;) let me know if I forgot one.  

Pls reblog if you like it 😊 Thank you for all the support so far! Means so much to me! Also really hope y'all like this chapter! It’s the last one 😫

~~~

Harry wasn’t looking at you, he was bouncing his knee up and down. There was a knock on his door and he stood up quickly.

"Must be the pizza."

You nodded and watched him go. When Harry opened the door he saw the pizza guy but also saw Derek knocking on your door. He finished paying the delivery guy and watched him for a bit. He had a "to go" bag around his wrist.

"Mate?"

"Oh um Harry? Right?"

"Yeah?"

"Y/n isn’t answering I guess maybe she fell asleep or something. She forgot her leftovers in my car."

"And you had to bring them tonight?" Harry looked at him confused.

"I don’t see a problem with that, do you?" he stepped closer to Harry.

"Mate, look. I'll take the leftovers and give them to her in the morning." he says as he shakes his head.

"I know you have a thing for he-"

"Derek?" you questioned as you appeared in the doorframe.

"Y/n? What the hell are you doing here? Why didn’t you answer your phone?"

"Hey, is that a way to talk to a lady?” Harry stepped in front of you.

"Harry," you moved him out of your way a little, "I can defend myself thank you."

"Y/n I told you, I told you he had feelings for you."

Harry looked between you two. You guys had talked about him on your date. Fucking ace. He could barely hide his smile.

"Derek, I can be wherever I want to be. We aren't boyfriend or girlfriend. Remember that. I didn’t answer my phone because I left it at my place."

"Shit, you have a thing for him too huh? Don’t invite me up so you could hang out with this, this nothing."

"Derek shut up, that is my best friend you are talking about. Forget tonight even happened because now you’ve really lost any chance with me. Just go." you left and walked back into Harry's apartment.

With a grin, Harry did a little tsk tsk and closed his door behind him. He set the pizza on the coffee table and went to his bathroom. He looked himself in the mirror and had the biggest smile. You just told Derek off, you defended him. He did a happy dance and then walked out looking much more cool. Except, you were gone. His shoulders slumped and he decided to give you your space rather than run after you. You laid on your bed, desperately trying to clear your head. You didn't want to think about Derek or Harry. You wanted to run away from both of them. Derek had apologized but you just left him on read. You didn't care. You texted your nursing manager and asked if you could do some over time tomorrow. They're frequently short so she said yes and you went to sleep since you had to be up early.

 ~~~

That morning you went to work and actually felt super excited. You hadn't seen your kids in like 3 days. You were off for 4 but you needed today. As you got report from your work buddy Chris. He was the typical dad that gave all the great dad jokes. He made the kids laugh and feel better. You had one patient you definitely favored. It wasn't supposed to happen, but you couldn’t help it. Her name was Malika and she was four years old. She had been in the hospital for about a year now.

"Good morning beautiful" you said as you walked into her room.

"Nurse y/n! I missed you." she said as she got up on her knees to give you a hug. You hugged her and kissed her head. Yes, you were very attached to her. Her parents loved you too. You were each other's favorites.

"I missed you! I'm sorry I was gone. But I came in today."

"I'm excited for today. Do you have a lot of patients?"

"Just you and lil David down the hall."

"David had a rough night. I saw doctors go in and out a lot."

"Yeah, he did.." You hated what these kids had to go through. Malika was only four years old but could tell you everything that was "wrong" with her.

"Well, Dr. Stevens said my body is ready to go outside."

"Hmm, did she?"

"Mhm, last night"

"Where do you wanna go? Playground? Or the jungle room?"

"Jungle room is just a bunch of plants, I wanna go on the playground."

You laughed at her answer and said okay. You changed all her dressings and brushed her little bit of hair. It made her feel more girly. Your morning went by fast and you got your sandwiches for you and Malika. You wheeled her out of her room and grabbed a sweater before leaving her room. You settled on the playground and moved her to a bench. You know how much she hated her wheelchair. She ate her sandwich and you had to remind her to slow down. Her stomach was very sensitive with all of the chemo treatments.

"y/n?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have a prince?"

"No, I don’t have a prince." you wanted to tell her prince's weren't real but you couldn't do that to her.

"Are you sure? I have one"

You tried not to laugh but asked, "Oh really? Who?"

"Dr. Evans"

"Oh yeah, he's a good looking prince." you said as you walked her over to the swing. You lifted her up and tied her in and swung her lightly. You had to face her front to see if her body showed any signs of sickness.

"You know who's a good looking prince?"

"Who?"

"That guy" she pointed towards someone behind you.

"Malika don’t point its rude," you put her hand down gently. You turned around and saw Harry with his hands in his pockets. You took a deep breath and turned back to Malika.

"Hey, I think its time we go up. You need to take your medicine and rest a bit. Today was big day, going outside."

"Okay" she said with a pout.

You helped her off the swing and back into her wheel chair. You mouthed to Harry, "I'll be back". He nodded and sat on the bench. You walked and wheeled Malika into the elevator. You jumped a little when she spoke up.

"You knew him, didn’t you?"

"I did."

She turned around slightly, "Prince?"

"I don't know," you shrugged, "he's my Kristoff right now."

"Kristoff and Anna end up together."

"I know," you wink at her and wheel her out.

You get her settled back in her room and tuck her in. Going outside always exhausted her body. Especially if there was a lot of sun. You put on Frozen 2 because she claimed that now you made her want to watch it. You dimmed the lights and walked out. You checked on Dave and the NA in his room said nothing new so you let her know you were going on your lunch break. You took the elevator down and took deep breaths. You tried to run away from Harry but he ran after you anyway. Pretty much prince material. You saw him sitting on the bench before you walked out the door. He was wearing sweatpants and a workout shirt. His hair was pushed up in a little pony. You walked out and slowly walked towards him before settling down beside him.

"Har, what are you doing here?" you played with your fingers in your lap.

"You left last night."

"I had to work"

"No you didn’t, you sent me your schedule. Did you forget?"

Fuck.

"I'm doing overtime, they needed more people today" Not a total lie.

"We never got to finish our conversation"

"And you think my job is the place to do it?"

"No, I thought maybe after work we could go somewhere."

"Why?"

"I've finished a book. Short story thing. To celebrate"

"I won't ever get to read it will I?"

"I don't know. Would have to think about."

You sighed. You just wanted to know. Did he like you or not?

"Yeah okay, text me the details. I've gotta go. Break is almost over." you stood up and felt his fingers wrap around your wrist. He stood up and pulled you closer towards him.

"Y/n.."

"Har.. Just say whatever it is"

"I won’t like you if it'll ruin our friendship.."

You looked in his eyes and saw them full of worry. You couldn’t help but grab his face in your hands.

"It wouldn't"

"Promise?"

"I promise."

He searched your face before dropping your wrist and wrapping his hands around your waist pulling you closer to him. He slammed his lips onto yours and you felt as if you melted in his arms. You pushed the back of his neck closer to you and one hand stayed on your hip while the other brushed against your cheeks. You felt everything, sparks, fireworks, everything. You pulled away briefly but he closed the gap quickly and you smiled against his lips. He pulled away soon after and mumbled a low 'sorry.' he was blushing and you figured your cheeks were red too.

"its okay," you leaned up on tippy toes and kissed him slowly. You couldn’t get enough. "I really have to go though."

"Yeah," he cleared his throat. "I'll pick you up. Um, we don't have to go out if you don't want to… but I would love to take you out."

"You can pick me up, we can go on a small date." you smiled up at him and walked backwards towards the door.

He nodded and let you go. You turned around to start walking inside but he ran up to you and kissed you again before actually leaving. You went back upstairs and checked on Dave then Malika. You saw her crawl back into bed and make believe she was half asleep.

"I saw that"

"You have a prince! I saw it!"

You giggled and sat next to her. "I know! I wasn’t expecting that!"

"Who is he?"  

“I think he might be my Kristoff” you say as you tuck her back in. “Get some rest”

You continue charting and check on Dave. Before you know it it’s 6 pm. You give report to Chris and check your phone.

H: I’m outside :) hope your day was easy.

Y/n: I’m coming down now.

You walked down and saw Harry standing outside. He had a sunflower in his hand and smiled at you.

“Hi,” you smiled up at him as he handed you the flower. You loved sunflowers; he knew this.

“Hey” he kissed your forehead.

“How was your day?”

“Good. Might’ve wrote a song, finishing up my short story book”

“Sounds productive,” you walked and he grabbed your hand pulling you into the inside of the sidewalk. You noticed how gentleman like he was. “Will I ever get to know who that last song I heard was about?”

“Meet you in the hallway? That was about you love. Pretty obvious if you ask me.”

“Well I didn’t know if you were talking to anyone else maybe before I moved in or something.” You bit your lip preparing yourself for the worst.

“I’ve been alone for quite a bit now,” he squeezes your hand, “it’s only been you”

You bit your lip and regretted that you couldn’t say you were on the same boat. He put his hand up to your cheek and gave you a soft yet sweet kiss.

“Did you wanna still go on our “small” date?”

You nodded and gave him another kiss. You felt like you were floating with each kiss. He walked you to your favorite pizza parlor. You two sat, talked, and grabbed a few slices before calling it a night and going home. You both went to your respective apartments and agreed to shower before meeting at your place. You wanted Harry no doubt, but he didn’t seem like the type to take you without making things official. After you both finished showering, you settled on the couch and watched the vampire diaries until you both felt sleepy.

“Love, lets go to bed yeah?”

“You’re going home?”

“If you want me to”

“You can sleep in my bed if you want, you don’t have to though”

“I wouldn’t mind that”

You both got up and walked to your bed. You turned your fan on and got under the covers.

“I uh usually sleep without a shirt, if you mind I’ll keep it on.”

“I don’t mind. I usually sleep without pants… would you mind?”

Harry was a little shocked you felt comfortable with him enough to do that but you would be under the covers anyway. He wouldn’t really see much. He wasn’t some creep to look under after you had fallen asleep.

“No I don’t mind”

You shimmied out of them under the covers and settled on Harry’s chest when he joined you in bed. You both soon found a comfortable position and fell asleep.

~~~

You woke up with Harry cuddling you from behind. You felt it. It was poking you in the ass. You scooted a little further away from it so you didn’t provoke anything. It was 4 am and you had to go to work. You left Harry a note on your pillow and gave him a kiss on the head before leaving. You weren't assigned Malika because you were floated to the NICU, but you visited her on your lunch break. Harry had texted you around 8 am,

H: Good morning love ❤️, woke up a little later than I expected lol. Your bed is just so comfy. Who would've known?

G: Good morning☺️, you’re always welcomed in my bed 😚

You felt like you were back in high school, you wanted to go home and kiss him and cuddle with him.

H: Sounds amazing, I'm going on my run love. Talk later Xx

G: Okay xx

Harry went on his run and only thought of you. He couldn’t believe that he was lucky enough to not only have you in his life, but have you as someone who likes him. He wanted to do something special for you everyday. He didn't know how but you had all of his heart already. When Harry fell for someone, he fell hard. He wanted to know more about your feelings for him but didn't know how to ask. You hid everything so well. Flirtatious yeah, but he didn’t know if you actually wanted to date. He decided he was going to make you a dinner and try to talk about it. After his run he walked to a liquor store by your building and bought your favorite wine. The day flew by rather quickly and you had a message from Harry to meet him at his apartment. You wouldn't lie if you said you weren't disappointed he couldn’t walk you home from work. You just missed him a lot. You made it up to your apartment and showered quickly. You were used to dressing pretty comfortable around Harry but you wanted to impress him a little bit. You put some ripped jeans on and a cropped sweater. You may have also put a lace bralette underneath. You also decided that you would tell Harry about your feelings, you reflected throughout your day and realized you were never really vocal about it. Harry had been the more vocal one. You walked across the hall and walked into his place, he had texted you that the door would be open. You walked in and his back was to you. He was looking in his fridge and you snaked your arms around his waist. He jumped slightly but still gently squeezed your arms. You let him go so he could turn around and face you.

"Hi," you said looking up at him

"Hi." he held your face in his hands.

"Smells good," you leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"You smell better." you laughed and gave him a hug before settling onto one his stools in his kitchen.

"How was your day?"

"It was good, um are you free Friday night?"

"Yeah, I'm off Friday why?"

"Got a gig"

"Ooh okay. Does that make me a groupie?"

"Not even that famous so no, never" he laughed.

"I'll be there. Did you finish your whole book thing Mr. Mysterious."

"Takes a while to process, I'm still working on the end. Didn't like the original."

"Can I read something you’ve written?"

"Maybe later," he winked your way before putting some mushrooms in a saucepan.

"Okay," you felt nervous, like your stomach was doing cartwheels, "Har, can I say something?"

He wasn’t facing you so you couldn’t see how his eyes widened or how he nervously bit his lip. He began thinking that maybe you were going to take it all back and say you just wanted to be friends.

"Yeah, what's up?" he stayed cooking, back towards you, this helped you express your feelings so you didn’t mind

"I just wanted to say, um because I haven't yet, that um I do like you. Um like more than a friend. I have for a while, I know I hid it well. I didn't want to lose you as a friend though. But um yeah just wanted to say I'm not trying to waste your time…" you breathed out. You just rambled, god, you put your head in your hands embarrassed.

Harry walked towards you and lifted your head up, "I feel the same way. I was perhaps a bit more obvious. But I'm not trying to waste your time either,"

You nodded, "so we're dating? I'm sorry but I'm a labeler I like to know exactly what we are and-"

You were cut off by his lips pressing against your yours. You kissed back because how could you not. He pulled away and you pouted.

"Ever since I tucked you into bed that one night, I've wanted you to be mine."

You smiled up at him but it quickly turned into a frown, "Har, I think the saucepan is on fire"

He let you go quickly before putting the mini fire out. "Um so how about some penne with some tomato and shrimp?"

"That sounds fine," you laughed.

You rolled your sleeves up excited to eat. He serves you a plate and a glass of your favorite wine.

“Look at us, who would’ve thought?” You giggled as you drank your wine. You were not trying to get tipsy tonight. You drank extra slow.

“I know right,” he smiled at you, “do you mind if I shower after we eat? Feel sweaty from cooking.”

“Yeah that’s fine, I mean you are a lil stinky” you scrunched your nose.

“Oh really?” He finished his plate and got closer and towered over you. You turned around and opened your legs so he could step between them.

“Mhm” you looked up at him innocently.

He moved your plate to the side from behind you and lifted you up onto his island. He was standing in between your legs and looked like heaven.

“I take it back,” you kissed him hard and wrapped your legs around him. He kissed you back for a few minutes but pulled away.

“Too late, I’m still gonna go shower.”

“Fine” you gave him a quick peck before he left.

After he was gone you finished your plate and wine and decided to clean up the kitchen for him. It was only fair since he cooked. You wanted to clean up all the papers on the floor too but you knew he understood his mess so you didn’t want to mess it up. You walked around his living room and reviewed his bookshelf. Any of these books could be his. Damn pseudonym. You accidentally stepped on a piece of paper. You looked around before picking it up. There were random sentences on the paper. But then a small paragraph towards the bottom.

I don't ever tell you how I really feel

'Cause I can't find the words to say what I mean

And nothing's ever easy

That's what they say

I know I'm not your only

But I'll still be a fool

'Cause I'm a fool for you

There was a date on the corner. It was the same day you went on your date with Derek. Your heart broke a little that these words were about you. You wanted to read more but you also didn’t want to invade his privacy. You heard his bathroom door open and you dropped the paper on the floor. You turned around to review his bookshelf. When he came out he saw the kitchen was cleaned up and smiled at your gesture.

“Hey” You turned around to face him. He was wearing a plain black t shirt with some Nike sweats.

“Hey, I like your collection of books.”

“Trying to figure out which are mine?”

“Maybe, but I don’t wanna know until you feel ready to tell me.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah no problem. I know it’s personal”

“A lil bit.”

“Harry, were you really crying over the vampire diaries that night?”

“Umm, no. But it doesn’t matter anymore.” He grabbed your waist and pulled you close against him.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s fine. I’m just happy we’re together now.”

You blushed just hearing him say it.

“Me too. Any new songs for the gig Friday?”

“Eh, idk. Maybe.” He didn’t want to sing the last one he wrote because things had changed between you two.

"Can you teach me how to play guitar?"

"You wanna learn?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Okay c'mere," he sits on the couch and grabs his guitar. He teaches you the basics like the body, the fretboard, and the headstock. "Okay now the first string is the thinnest of all strings, it’s a high E when played. And so when you play the opposite, the sixth and thickest string, it’s a low E" he played them so you could hear the difference. He continued to explain the different strings but you got lost in his voice and watching his hands.

"Y/n?"

"Hm?" you looked away from his hands and looked at his bright green eyes.

"Were you listening?" he smirked at you.

"Yeah I was," you grab the guitar and sit on his lap and put the guitar on yours. "Teach me how to play Girl crush, I love that song" he put his hands over yours and guided your fingers over the strings. The melody was barely there but you could hear it slightly. You adjusted yourself and earned a groan from Harry.

"Oops. Sorry"

"Its okay" Harry tried to not think of how good that felt. It'd been a long time since he'd been with anyone. He didn’t really like hookups. He wanted to do It with someone he genuinely liked and enjoyed. He wanted to do it wi-

"Har?"

"Yeah love, sorry. Got distracted. Was thinking about Friday's set"

"Maybe I can take your mind off of it?"

"Maybe you can."

You turned around and straddled his lap. He put his hands on your waist. His hands were warm and welcoming. They felt hot against your skin. Cropped sweater was a good choice you thought. You leaned in slowly and he closed the gap between you kissing you hungrily. You wrapped your arms around his neck and subconsciously moved your hips against him. He groaned and leaned down to kiss your neck. He left wet open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. You grabbed his face again and kissed him hard while grinding against him. You couldn't help it. You needed some relief.

"Harry," you moaned against his lips before kissing his neck. You bit him lightly and left kisses all around his neck. He squeezed your waist and worked his hands down to your ass.

"Fuck, y/n. We should stop."

You pulled away quickly, "Stop?"

"Yeah, I don't know. If you don’t wanna do anything I understand. So I just think we should stop before we get ahead of ourselves." you watched him as he spoke. Getting more turned on each second that passed.

"And what if I do want to do something?"

"W-well then I wont stop you"

"Good" you smashed your lips against his.

"Bed?" you nodded and stood up but he grabbed you closer picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he walked you to his bedroom. He put you down gently and crawled in between your legs.

"I'm sorry it’s a fucking mess," he tossed a notebook to the floor while you kissed his neck and moaned instead of speaking. Your fingers played with the hem of his shirt.

"I want this off," you said lifting his shirt and he put his arms up helping you get it off. He lifted your crop sweater and took it off swiftly.

"Ah you really wanted this," he eyed your lace bralette.

"I did now hush," you pulled him down on top of you and kissed his lips down to his chest.

"Love, its been a while for me," he said in between kisses.

"Me too." you pulled his pants down and your feet helped you push them off.

"Why'd you wear jeans?" he questioned as he unbuttoned them.

"Wanted to impress you and not look like a hobo."

"You could never," he kissed you sweetly and you smiled in the kiss as he helped take your jeans off. He kissed down your chest to your stomach. You leaned your head back against your pillow. It was like he didn’t want to leave any spot of your body untouched by his lips. He lifted your leg up and kissed your ankle down your leg toward your thigh. His fingers wrapped around the sides of your underwear.

"Is this okay?"

"Yes," you breathed out.

He pulled them down your legs slowly and once they were off he was back to kissing your inner thighs. He ran a finger through your slit and you groaned at the touch.

"So wet already love," you felt his tongue on your center and you moaned at the relief. He sucked at your clit and put a finger in. you felt his rings, a cold contrast to his warm finger. He kept sucking and licking while pumping his finger in and out of you, "Feel so good around my fingers" you moaned at his words and squeezed your legs around his head. He put one arm across your hips to hold you down.

"Harry I'm not gonna last," you clenched around his fingers before he pulled away.

"Not just yet," he lifted his head up and crawled back on top of you.

"That was not okay." you flipped you two over so harry was on his back. You kissed down his chest to his stomach. Your tongue traced over his fern tattoos.

"Shit.." he watched as you rubbed him through his boxers and placed light kisses. You pulled his boxers down slowly and you were pleasantly surprised. He was bigger than you thought. You began pumping him and placing light kisses around his tip.

"Fuck I shouldn’t have teased you,"

"You shouldn’t have." you put the majority of him in your mouth all at once earning a loud moan from Harry. You bobbed your head up and down and handled the rest with your hand. You saw Harry's abs tense up so you slowed down and took his balls into your mouth. He grabbed your hair in his hand and watched you. You looked up at him keeping eye contact until he shut his eyes from pleasure.

"Love, I'm not gonna last if you keep doing that." You fit what you could in your mouth and sucked hard releasing him with a popping sound. He grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you hard laying you back down on your back.

"Gotta get a condom" you grabbed his forearm before he could get up.

"I'm on the pill," he looked at you a little confused. You had told him it had been a while. "Its for my period but it does work as a dual purpose. And I'm clean. But if you wanna use a condom I'm okay with that too."

"I'm clean too," he kissed you as he opened your legs and rubbed himself against your slit. "You sure this is okay?"

"Yes babe" It was the first time you called him something besides his name. He loved the way it sounded. He kissed you slowly and pushed into you slowly. It felt intense since it had been so long and from the groans coming from the back of his throat you could tell he felt the same. His thrusts slowly became quicker. You moaned his name when he reached down to rub your clit. You'd never had sex like this before, he was so attentive.

"Does this feel good love?"

"Yes," you kissed his cheek before wrapping your arm around his neck and moaned in his ear, "Har, can I get on top?"  

He moaned and nodded. He hooked his arm around your back and flipped you while remaining inside you the whole time. It was fucking hot. He finally took your bralette off. You put your hands on the side of his neck and began kissing him while bouncing up and down on his dick. He moaned a little louder each time.

"I'm close baby"

"Me too love" He took your nipple into his mouth and lightly nibbled.

Your could feel the tightness in your stomach and you clenched around him.

"Ugh that feels so good Har,"

You tried to keep your rhythm but it became hard once you found your release. You moaned while brushing your lips against his. You pushed his hair off his sweaty forehead and looked him in the eye as you came. He wrapped his arm around your waist tightly while his hips bucked up into you. It felt amazing and he kept eye contact until he came, shutting his eyes from pleasure. Your foreheads were stuck together as you rode out your highs. He grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you hard before slowing down. He grabbed the back of your thigh to flip you over on your back before slowly pulling out of you. You continued to kiss slowly until Harry kissed down your neck and laid his head on your chest. Your breathing slowed down and you ran your fingers through his hair.

"Har, I have to pee."

"Right," he kissed in between your breasts and got off. He adjusted his pillows and laid on one side of his bed waiting for you to come back.

You went to the bathroom, did your business and put your underwear back on and Harry's shirt you grabbed before leaving the room. Afterwards you fixed your hair in the mirror and went back to Harry's room. He was on the right side of the bed and his blanket covered his lower half. He looked so good you couldn’t help but run and jump onto his bed and sit on his lap.

"Hi" you smiled at him.

"You look good in my shirt," he rubbed your sides.

"Its soft" you blushed a little.

"Look y/n," he looked down, you became a little nervous, "I just wanted to say I usually have a bit more stamina," He laughed lightly.

You laughed and kissed him. "I mean for someone who supposedly hasn’t done it in a while I think we went on for pretty long."

"I'm saying I could get a few rounds out of you on a normal day," he kissed you again and bit your lip.

"Are you trying to go again right now?"

"I would but we have to be up early tomorrow," you furrowed your brows at him, "oh did you forget you have work tomorrow?"

"No but why'd you say we?"

"Well since you're my girl now I gotta walk you there," he said as he placed his head in the crook of your neck.

"Your girl?"

"Mhm"

"I like that,"

"I like babe a lot,"

You blushed remembering when you called him that, "Oh so you heard."

"Course I did, it was music to my ears"

You giggled and you guys eventually then switched into spooning.

"I set our alarm already" he said as he kissed the back of your shoulder. His arm was around your waist and your legs were tangled. You yawned and let out a thank you. You drifted off into sleep and so did Harry. Next thing you knew you heard the blaring noise of his alarm clock. He leaned over you to turn it off. You felt his morning wood again and giggled.

"Don't laugh, it hurts."

"Oops. Sorry." you smiled into his pillow eyes closed.

He kissed your cheek and got up to use the bathroom. You stretched into a big X on his bed. You remembered you never brought your scrubs over last night.

"Harry," you said loudly enough for him to hear, "I forgot my uniform!"

He came out with his toothbrush in his mouth and mumbled, "Go and get ready at your place if you want and when you're done I'll have breakfast ready."

"Okay. I'm keeping this shirt by the way." you said as you got up and pulled your jeans on.

"Sure you are."

"I am," you leaned up and gave him a kiss on his cheek before bending over to pick up your shirt. He took advantage of this and slapped your ass playfully. You shook your head before running out of his apartment and into yours. You would be lying if you said you didn't get ready a little faster this morning because you were so happy. He made you over easy eggs and home fries with a side of toast. He really loves to go all out for you.

"Thank you for breakfast babe" you grinned at him.

"Of course, can't have my girl go to work hungry" you laughed at how lovesick you two were.

~~~

It was Friday and you were getting dressed for Harry's gig. Against Harry's wishes you agreed to just meet there if you agreed to take a cab and not walk. You straightened your hair pin straight and wore a white tank top with beige high waisted dress pants. They flared out on the bottom. You wore them with nude heels and carried one of Harry's dress coats in your hand just in case you got cold. You walked into the small café, there was light chatter and dim lights. It was different than his last gig but you liked it. You weren't in the mood for the bar scene anyway. Since the weather was getting colder as New York City transitioned into fall you were in the mood for hot chocolate. The stage was lit up and you saw Harry's guitar standing against the wall.

Y/n: hey just wanted to let you know I'm here. Its packed though so I'm gonna stay near the back corner.

You can see he read it but doesn’t answer. You don't take it to heart because he's probably just busy rehearsing. He comes out on stage a few seconds later and greets the crowd. His set starts off the same as last time and you watch the crowd watch him. They seem to enjoy his covers and original "meet you in the hallway". You liked that he took his time to write a song about you but you hated that it was basically about how sad you made him.

"Next song I'm gonna sing is an original as well, its called treat people with kindness."

The song was more upbeat and the lyrics were happier. You were so proud of him. You wanted him to keep doing this, strive for more. Maybe he was a writer, but he could do damn well as a singer too. Once he finished and the crowd cheered for him he went backstage with his guitar and then came out shaking hands with some older man. You figured that maybe he was the owner of the café. He walked over to you and put his ring covered hands on your face and kissed you.

"Guess what?"

"What?" you kissed him again.

"That guy I was just talking to? His name is Jeff Azoff and he walked in here for a coffee and heard me. His dad is Irving Azoff, wants me to go in a studio to hear me properly"

"Woah no way. Doesn't Irving Azoff have like a whole management company?"

"MHMM"

"I'm so proud of you baby" you hugged him tight.

"Think you can stick by me through it?"

"I'm here now," you kissed him, "and I'll be there at your retirement party"

"Already thinking of me getting old?" he grinned at you.

"Oh yeah," you put your arms around his neck, "gonna be a silver fox" you winked.

He shook his head at you and kissed you again.

"C'mon, I wanna go home." he grabbed your hand and dragged you backstage to grab his guitar. You make it out of the café and walk hand in hand.

"Har, you sure you don’t want to celebrate?"

"I do, but in one of our beds"

"That's um that's.. I got my period this morning" you gave him a frown.

"Eh that's okay. I don’t see a problem" he shrugged.

"Harry!" you hit his arm.

"What! I'm serious! Just put a towel under you and I'll use a condom" he shrugged again.

"How about a blowjob and we call it a night with some wine in bed?"

"Sounds good to me but consider period sex for the future" he laughed lowly at you.

You simply shook your head at him and just kept walking by his side.

You walked up to your apartment and you both got ready for bed. When Harry got in your bed he put his arms around your waist began kissing at your neck. You knew what he wanted but you weren’t sure if you were comfortable with that yet.

“Har,”

“I know I know,” he laid back against your pillows.

“It was your big night. You deserve the special treatment” your hand rubbed over chest and downwards.

“Yeah but I love pleasuring you more” he pouted.

You hopped on top of him and kissed his neck.

“How very selfless of you” you kissed down his chest and rubbed him through his boxers. He groaned and put his hand under your chin for a kiss.  

You kissed him hard and took him out of his boxers. You moved your hand up and down slowly, teasingly.

“Y/n” he breathed

You moved in between his legs and kissed down his naval still moving your hand. You lightly kissed his balls and he sucked in a breath. You smiled and took all that you could of him in your mouth. He looked down watching you before throwing his head back against your pillow from pleasure. You sucked hard and focused a bit on his head. You spit on it and then repeated what you just did.

“Shit” he cursed.

You kept bobbing your head up and down and picked up your pace as you went. Your other hand massaged his balls. He bucked his hips up and it made you gag slightly.

“Fuck I’m sorry that just felt really good,”

“It’s okay” you said a little out of breath. You went back to what you were doing and steadied your breath. You slowly attempted to take all of him breathing through your nose. Once your nose was touching his pelvis you stayed there for as long as you could before sucking all of him again and releasing him. You used your hand afterwards and sucked on his balls a bit.

“I’m close love”

You attempted to deepthroat again and that’s when you heard his mumble of curses begin. You felt his cum hit the back of your throat and you began sucking at his head. Sucking all you could out of him.

“Fuck me holy shit” he grabbed your hair and tugged lightly. Once you were sure there was no more cum and felt him getting a little softer you kissed around his hips and laid back onto his chest.

“That was amazing. Thank you.”

“Of course baby, you deserved it” you kissed him and you two soon fell asleep.

~~~

One Month Later

"My love! I have a present!"

You had barely seen Harry. If he wasn't in the studio, he was at the publishing house. You tried to be understanding but it did get to you on somedays when you missed his company.

"Hey, what's up?" you dried your hands as you had just finished washing dishes. He had a big smile on his face and there was a box in front of him.

"This is for you, its for everything. For being my friend, girlfriend, support system, and for all the late nights I wasn't able to sleep in the same bed as you."

Your heart warmed at his words and you gave him a kiss. You pulled the box closer towards you as you were standing across the small kitchen table. You lifted the top off and it was a book. The front cover was a picture of your door, 17G boldened. The title was "Meeting You In The Hallway" by Harry Styles. You felt your eyes get a little watery.

"N-no pseudonym?"

He shook his head at you and walked to you and put his arms around your waist.

"No, because this is the one story I'm proud of"

A tear fell and you kissed him hard.

"Look at the last page"

You grabbed the book and flipped to the last page quickly. Typed was "I love you y/n. Lets change meet you in the hallway to meet you on the patio?"

"You wanna move in together?" you looked up at him.

"I want to buy a house together" he smiled down at you.

"Okay"

"Okay?"

You nodded quickly and brought him down to your height to give him a kiss that said all you needed to say.

[theladyspooks]

In Morte, Aerternitatis Ch. 1: Begin

New Orleans, LA 1995

Storm clouds bordered the edge of town, a distant rumbling threatening to disrupt the merry making taking place only days before Mardi Gras in the jubilant city of New Orleans. Anastasia Fyodorov drove her cerulean 1966 Ford Mustang through the cobblestone streets as the radio played softly in her ears.

Are you with me, New Orleans? Do ya hear me? This is the Kingfish coming to you at 96.2 FM. Anointed and appointed. Just three more days, Crescent City, three days until Lent. So let's have it, the merriment before the penance, and the feast before the fast! The Kingfish gonna keep y'all company all the way down. Hey, brothers and sisters, y'all know what "carnival" means in Latin? Well, the Kingfish went to the good schools, so he can tell you all about it. Carnival. Farewell to the flesh. That's what it means. I like that a lot! Farewell to the flesh. Yeah, you right. And farewell to all that floodin', as far as I'm concerned. That's right. Look at it. The banks of the mighty Mississippi are ready to spill their seed. Just look at that sky out there. It's ready to rain on us again. And the clouds? Well, now, brothers and sisters, they're not the only thing threatenin' the Crescent City. We're talking murder, mes amis. Or so we've heard before, the hook man, kerchunk. So when you pull on your costume and turn to admire yourself in the mirror, please keep those lips locked tight. Do not call his name.

Anya let out a chuckle before pulling onto a side street and switching the car off, her mind swam with thoughts of young teens daring to utter the infamous name all for a few bragging rights amongst their friends. True, her brother had always flirted with the idea of attempting the same, often trying to goade her into calling upon the vengeful spirit. Their mother, however, had taught her far better than to mess with anything associated with the supernatural. Better to let the dead stay that way, after all.

‘Speak of the Devil.’ She thought with a chuckle as she spotted a familiar face leaving her dance studio. She retreated from the car and locked it with a smirk.

“Missed me already, Vadim? What would your employees think of you leaving the brunch rush just to see your sister?” She teased.

“I’ll have you know that Doc has the rush handled just fine, thank you. Plus…” He reached behind his back and pulled a pair of keys out, “You forgot your studio keys at the bar.” He chuckled as Anya’s whole body untensed and she threw herself into his arms in gratitude.

“I know I give you so much shit, but I really have no idea what I’d do without you, moy brat.” No matter how long the siblings spent in America, their native tongue of Russian would always be a part of their lives.

“You’ll never have to worry about that, dushen'ka,” Vadim squeezed his sister fondly and relinquished the keys to her when she pulled back, “Now run along, your students await and Doc will be expecting me back soon.” He patted her cheek fondly and chuckled when she scrunched her face in mock annoyance.

“Okay, okay, enough touchy feely time. Get back to it and swing by the house later, I’ll cook you some gumbo and biscuits as a thank you.” She laughed and began walking to her studio keys firmly in hand as Vadim voiced his agreement at her offer, turning and making his own way back down town.

Anya unlocked the door and began to prepare for the day’s classes, the smell of last night's shoe chalk still fresh in the air to accompany her thoughts.

Vadim had always been an attentive older brother, even as far back she could remember from her time in Russia. Constantly watching out for her and being the responsible male figure in her life when their father could not. Not that it was their father’s fault, of course, what with his family’s safety to worry about.

Or so their mother had always told them.

It had only been five years since Elena Fyodorov’s passing at the hands of a car accident, but to Anya it truly felt like yesterday. No one was really at fault, a child had chosen the wrong time to wander out into the street in order to retrieve his ball and Elena had swerved to avoid hitting him. Unfortunately, the impact from colliding with a lone street pole was just enough to take her mother away instantly. After that, it was up to the Fyodorov twins to survive the world on their own with no mother and a seemingly absent father.

Life, however, was not entirely cruel to the Russian redheads. With the immense fortune their parents had bequeathed unto them both had flourished in their own respective professions, Vadim with a Russian New Orleans fusion restaurant and Anya with her own ballet studio for children and teens whose parents could not afford to send them to the bigger cities. Nothing gave her more happiness than being able to do what she loved while teaching others along the way. Was it the easiest craft in the world?

Absolutely not.

Being a ballerina meant long days into longer nights with a strict schedule that had one's body screaming for a hot bath. Anya didn’t want that to be what her students felt, she wanted them to enjoy what they did; to feel the emotion and passion that went into dancing. It was more than just movement; it was poetry, a story to tell, a-

“Mornin’ Miss Ani!”

Anya grasped her chest in surprise, turning to face the energetic voice with a smile.

“Yasmine! You nearly gave me a fright, sweetheart.” She pushed her hair back with a smile as the rest of the kids filed in through the door.

“Sorry Miss Ani! Wasn’t my intention, I swear!”

“I know, Sweetheart, I know. Don’t worry about it,” She smoothed the young teen’s baby hairs down, “Now go put your flats on and get ready for stretches.” Yasmine nodded and ran back to join her friends near their cubbies.

‘Just another day.’ Anya shook her head before joining her students.

_______________________________________

The evening was still light as Anya cleaned and organized the studio for the night, her muscles well used and ready for a shower. Well, a shower after she cooked dinner for herself and Vadim.

Normally the idea of cooking would be fine with her, perfect in fact what with how much she enjoyed it. As much as Vadim was the big chef of the family, she knew she could hold her own when it came to the comforts of the kitchen; often having to cook and care for her brother when he was sick or hungover from the previous night.

She wiped her hands on her leggings and slung her gym bag onto her shoulder, keys jingling in hand as she went to lock up for the night. Breathing in the warm New Orleans air at night was more refreshing than any shower she could dream up. It was refreshing and rejuvenating in ways that she couldn’t put into words after spending most of the day in the stuffy studio with a gaggle of energetic kids.

She turned the lock to the studio, ready to get in her car and head home.

“Anya?!” She turned to see a familiar truck pull up near her car.

“Annie? Paul? What are you two still doing over here, I thought you would’ve been home by now.” Her confusion only grew when Annie got out of the car and lightly jogged to her before hugging her tightly.

“Anya, it’s Ethan, the cops are keeping him in the station. I-” Anya hushed her gently, her hands softly running up and down her back as Paul too exited the vehicle. Her face must have held the question she had waiting on the tip of her tongue.

“Got a call from Annie today that Ethan was being held for- well, held for suspicion of murder on multiple counts.” Paul looked none too thrilled that a nice night with his wife was dashed by such a dark turn of events.

Anya had always admired the love shared between Annie and Paul, how effortlessly they floated around each other as if it was fate’s design. She couldn’t ever remember her father looking at her mother the way Paul looked at her best friend.

“Murder? Annie, what-” The blonde cut her off.

“I know it sounds crazy, but he didn’t do it! I know he’s been so off kilter since Daddy died, but he wouldn’t murder anyone Anya, he wouldn’t!”

“Hey, hey, take it easy Ann! No one here is saying that,” She held her shoulders, “Where is Ethan now?”

“Still being held in police custody, they’re convinced he murdered Purcell-”

“Purcell? Professor Philp Purcell, the man who wrote that Candyman book?”

“Yes, him and- and they’re trying to pin all the recent murders on Ethan, including Daddy!”

Now that made her pause. The death of Coleman Tarrant was heard throughout the entirety of Louisiana and no one was more devastated than Ethan. He’d been the one to discover Coleman in front of the hidden Candyman shrine in the old Tarrant ancestral estate. He’d been obsessed with the legend weeks before his death, often spending late nights at the bar of Vidam’s restaurant combing over notes and muttering to himself. Ethan had blamed himself, citing that if he’d found his father sooner that he could have saved him.

Nothing Annie nor her mother told Ethan would ever convince him otherwise it seemed. No, it was preposterous to think Ethan would ever harm his family let alone any human being, even one as arrogant as Philip Purcell.

“Is there anything we can do?” She knew there was little she could say to make this go away, but she could try. Annie shook her head and grasped Anya’s hands.

“Not right now, not until we can find something that could prove Ethan innocent to the murders,” She sighed as Paul came up alongside the both of them, “We were going to head back to my childhood home in the morning, try and find something that could help make sense of all this.”

“I can meet you both there if you need an extra hand? Only have a nightly pointe class tomorrow with the kids I need to be at.” Hell, she could even cancel that if it meant proving Ethan as innocent.

“That would be real fine, Anya,” Paul intercepted and wrapped his arms around both the young women’s shoulders, “But in the meantime, you’re welcome to come back to the bar for a drink on the house, think we could all use one after today.” She smiled at his kindness.

“You know on any normal day I’d never pass up free booze, but I promised Vadim I’d cook him a meal tonight. Now come on, group hug hm?” She laughed as Annie cracked a smile while Paul chuckled, squeezing both ladies equally.

“We’ll see you at the old plantation house in the morning then?” Annie inquired after pulling out of the hug.

“Of course, Ann” She hugged her best friend one last time before kissing Paul on the cheek, “Have one on me, Mister Manager.” Paul laughed and patted her back fondly.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice!” He laughed.

With one last wave, Anya trekked to her car; images of the clear night and legends dancing in her brain.

________________________________

The Fyodorov villa was old, but still big enough to accomodate a family of three or more. In the case of Anya and Vadim the latter couldn’t handle the absence of his mother enough to live there, opting to find his own estate nearby. Anya felt in a similar fashion to her brother yet slightly different.

The thought of her family home sitting in ruins or used as a vacant lot wasn’t something that thrilled her by any means. Their family had engraved too many memories, painted too much love within the walls of this estate for her to simply sell it to the highest bidder.

The decision to keep the villa came with a few opportunities to redecorate and make the space her own, keeping all of her mother’s prized possessions and their childhood memories stored in the attic for safe keeping. Gone were the emerald green walls and gold drapery, replaced by a celestial pink and cream velvet. Paintings of moon lit scenery and castles in a far away land lined the walls with various antiques and flowers accompanying marbles tables.

Some may call her sense of decorum tacky, almost old fashioned, but it reminded her of home; a fond memory that she never fully got to embrace.

Something she still desperately clung to.

While she kept everything light and airy throughout the estate, her own room was styled to fit a more romantic mood. Swathed in white lace drapery and painted a deep burgundy to offset her chestnut bed post, it’s arms reaching towards the ceiling while holding black velvet netting to encase her in her own dreams. Two shelves lined the walls and held her most favorite stories, some that she had enjoyed in childhood and others that stole her attention even now.

Of all the rooms in the villa, one that meant the world to her, one that she found herself in now was the little dance studio that she had gutted the basement for, one that was only accessible through the pulling of a blue book of poetry in a lone bookcase.

The room was modest in size, enough for one or two people to dance in comfortably in tandem and lit by an adjustable switch to set the right mood. One wall was lined with full body mirrors for her own self reflection and critique, the other bare with one or two chairs and an old record player..

This was her safe place, somewhere she could reflect and relax; a room to be whoever she wanted. Some days she pictured that she was an established ballerina still performing in Russia, other days she imagined herself as a princess dancing amongst dashing strangers and beautiful aristocrats.

Even now she could feel herself start to nod off into her imagin-

“Anya? Hellooooo? Earth to the grand duchess!”

She made two mistakes when constructing this room, telling Vadim how to find it and not making it sound proof.

With a sigh she turned off the lights and opened the passage back into the stairwell, smirking at the sight of her brother on the other side.

“You realize the food is on the table, right?” Her nose scrunched at his scoff.

“Well that’s all well and good, but I was under the impression I’d be dining with my sister. The one who made the meal?” He flicked her cheek and threw his arm over her shoulder, guiding her back upstairs.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit spacey since I got back, Ethan was arrested..” At her comment, Vadim’s head shot up in confusion, “Murder, evidently.”

“Bychit! You’re messing with me aren’t you?” Anya smiled wanly at his disbelief, “Well shit, you’re not...shit well- who’s the victim?”

“Philip Purcell.”

“The Candyman professor? Well I’ll be damned, Ethan’s dad used to mention him when he’d come to the bar. Something about the old codger not believing the myth after he told him to say the name five times in a mirror or something like that.”

“What, like Bloody Mary?” Anya chuckled as she dug into her meal.

“Sort of a Bloody Mary vibe with Phantom of the Opera thrown into the mix,” Anya stopped mid chew to look up in confusion as he continued, “I read Purcell’s book, Candyman was originally an artist named Daniel Robitaille who fell in love with a white woman from Southern society. After they were found out he was chased down and tortured by an angry mob, sawed off his painter’s hand and smeared honey all over him before the bees came”

“Jesus..” Anya put her hand over her mouth.

“You can guess what happened after that, surprised you haven’t heard the tale.”

“I know what Candyman is, I just never really knew anything about the man behind the myth.” She shrugged.

“Coleman was obsessed with it, told me the story and gave me a copy of Purcell’s book to read up on. As far as I could tell Ethan’s been depressed, but murder?” He shook his head and took a bite of his biscuit.

“Well, I’ll be seeing Annie and Paul in the morning. Maybe they’ll have more info by then.” She stood up and collected her dishes. Vadim quirked his head.

“Day trip?”

“Not exactly, Annie thinks there might be some clues back at the old Tarrant estate. You know, where they- where they found Coleman?” She hesitated and looked at Vadim, “The shrine.”

“Mm, spooky.” Vadim shivered, “Gonna leave the big bad boogeyman an offering?” He chuckled.

Anya stopped at the sink and hummed thoughtfully.

“You know? I just might.”

____________________________________